For My Daughter
by Carrie86
Summary: How will Anna's parents react when they find out that she is married to a man due to be tried for murder?
1. Chapter 1

**Not my characters etc etc, but I do believe that the other stories I have written fit in well with the canon of the show. This one doesn't quite, solely because of three words Anna utters in series three episode one, when advising John to be careful with his new cellmate. "Just remember what my mum used to say," she says, "Never make an enemy by accident." **

**I think the only other time Anna references her mother is in series one episode five: "Fight fire with fire. That's why my mum says." The switch from present to past tense clearly implies that Anna's mother has died between series one and series three, and yet we were never shown this. I think this is very sad and very silly – I think it would be of great benefit to character depth to explore the personal lives and families of the servants more often. Apart from Mr Bates' mother, who died right after she had been introduced and with tragically little acknowledgement, the only other servant's family member we have been introduced to is William's dad, who then became Daisy's only family, offered her his farm and left her to think about it, only to disappear and the issue not be brought up ever again (hopefully it will be in series four!)**

**I think it would be great if they explored the servants' families more, especially Anna's, because she is such a fascinating character and it would be interesting to know where she gets her values from. So, I have stepped into the AU by assuming that Anna's mother is still living in series 3, as well as her father and surviving siblings. (Anna has never mentioned them in the show, but I created them myself in Of Love and War).**

**Chronology-wise, this story fits in between 2x08 and the 2011 Christmas Special. Therefore, it could quite easily be slotted into the canon storyline with the deletion of those three simple words, "used to say", from Anna's line in series three episode one.**

...

Anna was tired. She hadn't been sleeping. Every night, she would lie down in bed and her eyes would remain open, staring at the ceiling. After an hour or so of doing this, she would roll over and close her eyes, but the sleep wouldn't come.

She would always roll to her right side, and her hand would extend just slightly across the pillow beside her, reaching towards the space where her husband had lain on the most perfect night of her life. He wasn't there anymore. She was in a single bed, after all – beside her was just air. But that didn't stop her thinking of him, day after day, night after night.

On this particular day, Marge, the new maid, had been talking ten to the dozen all morning about the upcoming Downton fair, and asking Anna all manner of questions about what was likely to happen there.

"Will there be a dance?"

Anna sighed as she fluffed yet another pillow. "There used to be, before the war."

"When was the last one?"

"1914, I believe." Anna frowned, trying not to remember. She had had a great time, spinning around the dance floor with Mr Branson and William, and then she had caught Mr Bates watching her. She went over to talk to him, and stayed there for the rest of the night. She had a wonderful time.

It was so long ago, and things had changed so much.

Anna watched as Marge patted down Lady Edith's bed, smoothing out all the creases.

"Are we done?" the young maid asked.

"Yes, I think so," Anna replied. "For now."

...

After luncheon, Mrs Hughes sent Marge off with Daisy to dust all the chandeliers, and Anna was allowed some peace. She had things to do, though - it was Wednesday. She always went into the village on a Wednesday, to post letters and collect any errant items needed by Mrs Patmore, Mrs Hughes, and anyone else who requested it.

She visited the post office first. Mrs Patmore had given her a small package she wanted sent to her sister, and Thomas a thin letter with snaky writing addressed to a post office box in London, which gave no clue as to who or what it was actually meant for. Anna usually found that with Thomas, it was best not to wonder.

And she, of course, had a letter for Mr Bates, in reply to the latest one she had received from him on Monday. She'd also received another letter from her mother the previous week, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. She just didn't know what to say. When she'd got married, she'd written to her sister, in a moment of ecstatic unthinkingness, to tell her all about how happy she was. She had said that she was seeking to break the news to their parents more gently at a later date, but the later date had, of course, never come, and Anna, not wishing to worry her parents with the news that their daughter was married to a man due to be tried for murder, did not tell them she was married. Her sister, on a visit to the family farm two months later with her husband and children, casually asked her mother if she'd met Anna's husband, assuming that Anna would have told their parents by then. The can of worms was opened, giving rise to a barrage of letters from Anna's mother, sister, one of her brothers and the other brother's wife, asking her what on earth was going on. And she couldn't tell them. She just didn't know how to explain. So she ignored the letters.

...

Mrs Hughes was, as usual, quite busy, although, by her own reckoning, she felt that she was not _that_ busy – it was an ordinary day, and ordinary days always had their fair amount of busyness in them, but she was not overrun.

"Mrs Hughes!" came a slightly panicked voice from along the corridor. Mr Carson was always busy.

"Yes, Mr Carson?" said the housekeeper, walking towards his voice. She could hear foraging noises coming from the crockery store.

"Have you seen the china teapot?"

"Which one?"

"What do you mean, which one? The good one, the one his lordship and her ladyship received for a wedding present, the one with a peacock on the side!"

"Oh." Mrs Hughes recalled the teapot in question, but reflected that Daisy was far more likely to know of its current location than she was. "Why do you need that, we've not got any posh guests today, have we?"

"No, of course not, I'm preparing for Lord and Lady Flintshire's visit next week!"

"I see. Well why don't you ask Daisy, she'll be the one making the – oh, there she is!"

Looking back into the corridor, Mrs Hughes saw the kitchen maid at the end of it, by the back door. "I think she's in the village," she was saying to someone in the doorway. "Hold on, I'll just go and check." The girl turned and started moving toward Mrs Hughes.

"Have you seen the peacock teapot, Daisy?" asked the housekeeper. "The one that's used only for important guests?"

"No, we haven't used that one for ages," Daisy replied, as a muffled gasp of "What? Where is it, then?" was heard from the butler inside the crockery store.

"Have you seen Anna?" Daisy asked Mrs Hughes.

"She's in the village," the housekeeper replied.

"That's what I thought. Do you know when she'll be back? There's a woman at the door asking for her."

"I'll deal with it, thankyou Daisy," said Mrs Hughes, sweeping back down the corridor.

"Daisy!" Mr Carson's face appeared around the crockery store doorframe. "Kindly cast your mind back to when we last used the teapot?"

"Hello!" said Mrs Hughes to the grey-haired woman standing at the back door. "I'm Mrs Hughes, the housekeeper. I'm afraid Anna isn't here at the moment, but she should be back soon, if you'd like to wait." She smiled.

"Thankyou, I will wait," said the woman. "I'm her mother and I've come a long way to see her!"

"Oh, of course you are!" A look of realisation spread across Mrs Hughes' face. "I'm sorry, Mrs Smith, I do recognise you, I think we met when Anna first started working here! You won't remember me though, I wasn't housekeeper then."

"I feel I know you very well, Mrs Hughes - Anna often mentions you in her letters!"

"Does she now? Come in." Mrs Hughes stepped aside and guided Mrs Smith through to her sitting room. "I do hope she says nice things – but knowing Anna, I'm sure she does."

"Oh, very nice things, Mrs Hughes. I'm ever so grateful to you for looking after her."

Mrs Hughes' smile fell. "My pleasure," she said solemnly. "Would you like some tea? You can wait in here until Anna arrives."

"Oh, thankyou very much. I could murder a good cup of tea right now, and I very much appreciate the chance to sit down as well."

Mrs Hughes stepped back along to corridor to ask Daisy to make tea for Mrs Smith, and to ask Mr Carson if he could spare her for a few minutes.

"I'm fine, thankyou, Mrs Hughes," said the butler, proudly holding a peacock china teapot aloft. "I found it!"

The housekeeper slipped back into her sitting room. "Anna left about an hour ago," she explained, "but I asked her to fetch me a couple of cleaning items, so she might take a little bit longer than she usually does. Not too long, though, I'm sure. She's never away too long. Do you mind waiting here?"

"Oh, not at all, thankyou very much!" said Mrs Smith. "But I wonder, can I ask you…is Anna alright?"

"Alright is not a word I would use, no." Looking at her visitor curiously, Mrs Hughes shut the door and sat down at her desk. "She didn't mention that you were coming."

"No." Mrs Smith shook her head. "No, she doesn't know."

"I see."

"I'm so sorry to disturb your working day, but I had to come, you see, because I'm so worried – we haven't heard from Anna for four months! She used to write to me almost every fortnight, right from when she first came here, but now… I did get one letter about six weeks ago, in response to one I'd written her, but it was so…vague. Something wasn't right. And I've written to her three times since then, and got nothing back."

"How much do you know, Mrs Smith?"

"Nothing at all, I've got nothing from her – my other daughter, Elise, said that she'd received a letter from Anna in April saying that she was married and really happy, but she never told us, and if it is true… Well, it can't be true, can it, she can't be happy, because if she was happy, she'd tell me! I've never known her to cut herself off like this before!"

Mrs Hughes nodded. "I've only seen her like this once before. Well, erm, I'll explain to you what I can, and when Anna gets back, she can tell you the rest, I suppose. I'm sorry, I didn't know she hadn't told you. I expect she probably wanted to, but…didn't know how."

"I expect she probably didn't want to worry us."

"Yes."

"But she doesn't realise that parents will always worry, whenever and whatever, and only moreso when they're not told what's happening!"

There was a knock at the door, and Daisy entered with the tea.

"Oh, thankyou so much, dear, I'm parched!" declared Mrs Smith, smiling at the young maid.

"You're welcome," said Daisy, smiling as she left the room.

Mrs Hughes poured Mrs Smith and herself cup of tea, and leant back in her chair. "Has Anna mentioned Mr Bates to you?" she asked.

Mrs Smith nodded. "Many times. As kindly as she mentions you."

"Did you know that she was engaged to him?"

Surprise flashed across Mrs Smith's eyes, but she kept it hidden. "No."

"She was engaged to him for a long time. I watched it happen, and it was beautiful to see, they – they dote on each other. I've never seen two people more in love. But the length of their engagement and also, I suspect, the reason why Anna didn't tell you about it was that he was married to somebody else. Somebody from whom he had been separated for many years, but who was reluctant to give him a divorce."

"And Anna knew this?"

"Yes. He would not have kept it from her – I assure you, he is a very honourable man. He didn't mean to compromise her honour in any way, he simply thought that he could get a divorce, but it turned out he couldn't."

Mrs Smith frowned. "Was she compromised?"

"She might have been. But his wife died suddenly, last November. Finally, they were free to get married, but, because the former Mrs Bates had died in…unexplainable circumstances, suspicion fell on him. It seems he was the only one who had anything to gain from her death, but… I'm sure he didn't do it, he is one of the most gentle men I've ever known. But, the police disagree, and he's currently being held in York Prison awaiting trial."

Mrs Smith's mouth fell open. "That's where he is now?"

"Yes. And Anna, she… she goes about her days, she gets her job done, but… she doesn't smile any more, not to reach her eyes anyway. I haven't seen her eyes twinkle once since it happened. I'm telling you this to warn you – when you see her, you will notice the difference."

"Did they get married?"

Mrs Hughes nodded. "Three days before he was arrested. I didn't know, they snuck off to a registry office, didn't tell anyone, and then he was arrested in the servants' hall down there and led away; I pulled Anna in here, her lip quivering, and she pulled a necklace out of her dress, on which was hanging a gold ring. She took it off the necklace and shoved it proudly onto her finger."

There was silence for a few moments as Mrs Smith digested this. Mrs Hughes quietly sipped her tea and tried to read the woman's worried face.

"Are you sure he… He's an honourable man, you say, and he…?"

Mrs Hughes nodded vehemently. "He is an honourable man, he's a very good man, Mrs Smith. I'm sure he didn't kill anyone, and I'm sure he wouldn't deliberately do anything that would hurt Anna. But unfortunately, at the moment, things are out of his control."

"You know him well?"

"I do."

"Good." Mrs Smith drained her cup of tea and placed it back on the table. "Thankyou," she smiled. "That hit the spot."

Mrs Hughes began clearing away the tea things, still watching her companion closely, as she more than once appeared on the verge of saying something, before suddenly stopping.

The housekeeper gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Is there anything else you'd like to know, Mrs Smith?"

"Well, yes." Mrs Smith nodded. "The thing I don't understand is, why is -"

There was a sudden rap at the door, and it opened to reveal Anna, in her hat and coat, holding an overflowing basket. "They were out of borax, Mrs Hughes, but there's a new order due in on…" Suddenly realising who else was in the room, Anna's voice trailed off as she stared at her mother in ill-concealed shock. Realising that her mouth was hanging open, Anna attempted to recover herself with a shaky, "Hello."

"Hello, dear," said Mrs Smith, getting up and sweeping her daughter into a hug. Mrs Hughes only just managed to rescue the basket before it tipped over.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" Anna looked very worried.

"With me? Oh no, nothing's wrong with me!"

"Is Dad alright?"

"Yes, yes, we're all fine, I just wanted to see you, that's all!" Ida Smith looked into her daughter's face for the first time, and she saw fear and deep, deep worry. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to worry you! It's alright!" She swept her daughter into a hug again.

Anna looked over her mother's shoulder at Mrs Hughes, a look of intense confusion on her face.

"She came because she's worried about you, Anna," explained the housekeeper.

"Why?"

"Just a moment, Mrs Smith, we'll just take these things through to the store rooms. Then, you and Anna can take a walk."

Grabbing the speechless Anna's arm, Mrs Hughes pulled her back into the corridor. Both were silent until they reached the privacy of the store rooms. Anna didn't know what to say, anyway.

"I didn't realise you hadn't told your family about what's been happening, Anna."

"It's not that I was keeping it from them, I just didn't know what to say, I mean how do you say that, how do you explain…"

"Well, I've filled your mother in on the basics. You can go with her now and have a good long talk about it, and don't you hide anything."

Anna was cradling her arms close to her chest, nervous, and embarrassed. She wasn't used to her life being under a magnifying glass like this. "What did you say?" she asked.

"I explained the basics of your situation with Mr Bates."

"The basics of…all parts of it, or…?"

"Well, you can't really explain one part without explaining all the other parts."

"She doesn't know, I mean, I didn't even tell them that I was engaged!"

"And I can understand why you didn't at the time, but now is the time for truth. It'll do you good to get it off your chest as well."

"But Dad wouldn't -"

"She's not your dad, she's your mum. She's been very understanding so far."

Anna kept her arms wrapped around her body as they walked back along the corridor to Mrs Hughes' sitting room.

"You can have the rest of the afternoon off, Anna. Take your time."

"Thankyou so much, Mrs Hughes," said Mrs Smith warmly.

"My pleasure. Off with you, then!" the housekeeper smiled encouragingly at Anna, but Anna didn't return it.

As the back door shut behind them, Mr Carson poked his head out of his office, a half-polished sugar bowl in his hands. "What was that?" he asked.


	2. Chapter 2

Neither said anything as they walked across the courtyard and out into the estate, but Ida Smith kept her eyes trained on her daughter's face as closely as Anna kept hers focussed on the trees. Neither of them knew where to start.

Anna wondered what John was doing right now.

"It's a lovely day," said her mother.

Anna looked at the blue sky for what seemed like the first time that day. "Oh yeah," she said.

"You hadn't noticed?"

Anna realised that she hadn't.

"Please talk to me, Anna. I don't want you to feel like you can't do that."

"It's not that, it's just…I really didn't know what to say. How can I explain something like that?"

"You told your sister."

"Only the good part. I shouldn't have done, if I'd been thinking straight I…"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because it's unfair to you, to all of you, to give you some information but not the whole. I've just left you worrying about it and I'm sorry."

"I disagree. Any information you are willing to give, we will willingly receive. And it did warm my heart to read it. You sounded really happy."

Anna sighed. "I just wanted to share that with someone. And I thought Elise wouldn't ask too many questions. But I shouldn't have sent it, really. Write it, fine, but not send it. When it was in the post, everything changed."

"But why all the secrecy? Mrs Hughes said she didn't know that you'd got married either!"

"No, we…it wasn't a problem, we were doing anything wrong, it was just that the house was in mourning at that time, for Mr Crawley's fiancée, and we didn't want to overshadow that. It just wasn't the right time to tell people."

"You couldn't wait until you could have a proper celebration with the people who love you?"

"No, we – we couldn't wait because…" Anna's voice began to break. "Because…"

"Because he was arrested three days later."

Anna nodded, and her mother looked surprised to have this knowledge confirmed. "You knew that it was going to happen?"

"Not exactly, just…well yes, I suppose – he thought so, anyway, and I believed him, because the police didn't have any other suspects, and…"

"But they would need some evidence."

"They have some evidence. But it's circumstantial and it's not true. Anyway, we knew this was coming, so I said to him, 'Look, marry me now, because…" Anna swallowed tears. "'Because I want to have a proper place in your life.' If we weren't married now, I wouldn't have visiting rights, they wouldn't keep me informed of what was happening, and I wouldn't have people's respect. I am his wife; this is real, this is what we've been fighting for, and we will go through this _together_."

"How long were you engaged before that?"

Anna shrugged. "It's hard to say. He could never promise himself to me because he wasn't free, but…the first time he said – he said something like, 'If I can ever get a divorce, I'll fall at your feet and beg you to marry me.' He said that in 1915."

"Four years ago?!"

"Four and a half. It feels longer than that. I've wanted to marry him since…not long after the Titanic sunk. I'm sorry, I hope you don't think that I wanted to keep that from you; it's not that, it's just that _how_ do you tell your parents that you're in love with a married man? I couldn't do that!"

"Your father would have had a heart attack."

"Yes. Exactly. So I couldn't say. I did have a plan of when I was going to tell you, I was going to take him to meet you after the divorce came through, but…that didn't happen. It turned out that he was widowed instead, and then we had to be quick, we had to…seize the day."

"There's a bench, dear, shall we sit down?"

"Alright." The bench was at the edge of the trees near the temple. Anna sat down and began fidgeting with her jacket. Her mother looked out at the house.

"Marvellous building, isn't it?"

Anna looked up briefly. "Yeah."

"The thing I have to ask…and I don't want you to think I'm interrogating you or doubting you, or him, but what I don't understand is, why was he suspected in the first place?"

Anna sighed. "Well, for a few reasons, I suppose. One was that he was the last person to see her alive. Two was that the last time her saw her, he fought with her…and three was that while she was alive, she stole all his money and did everything she could to prevent the divorce, and they call that a motive because her death reversed all that… And sure, we benefited from her death in that it enabled us to get married, but it cast a huge shadow over the whole thing and we're definitely not benefiting now, so the whole idea of killing her just makes no sense."

"So you trust him absolutely."

"Of course I do! I trust him, I know him, and he wouldn't do that, but the other thing I know, and I told this to the police, I said I have evidence that he didn't do it because I saw him when he came back that night, and it took me about two hours just to calm him down! He was devastated, he was crying, he was angry, he was very upset because he thought that he had failed and that he'd never get a divorce and he'd never be free of her, and he wouldn't stop apologising to me for not being able to marry me, and it clearly broke his heart to say that, to acknowledge that the result of this big fight he'd just had with her was that he and I would never be able to get married. That's what he honestly thought. Meantime, down in London, she was dying or dead, but he didn't know. So why would he react like that if he knew that she was dead and that none of the things we were talking about were a problem any more? Of course he didn't know, because he didn't do it! And I said that to the police, and they said that my evidence was circumstantial. _Well so is theirs_." Anna slouched back on the bench, her arms folded.

Ida sighed a long sigh, and the pair were silent for a minute or two.

Anna wondered how long it would be before her mother told her not to slouch.

But she didn't. "So tell me about him, then. This son-in-law of mine."

Anna straightened up and looked at the sky. "What would you like to know?"

"I don't even know his first name."

"Oh. It's John."

"John. I see. Tell me about John."

"He's just…he's the most wonderful man I've ever met. He's kind, he's selfless, he's giving…he's interesting, he's intelligent, he's dignified, he…he understands me, he respects me. And when we're together, it just works. It's incredible. And I could never experience that with anyone else. He's the only man who ever turned my head."

"Here was I thinking no man would ever turn your head!"

"His lordship said we could live in a cottage on the estate."

"Lord Grantham approved the match?"

"Yes."

"So you told him?"

"No, he made that offer years ago, when we got engaged."

"I see. Well I hope you do, sweetheart."

"We will."

"Can I meet him?"

"You will. I'm sure of that."

"No, I mean now, soon. Will you introduce me?"

Anna looked at her mother, her eyes bulging somewhat, her mouth struggling to form a response. In the absence of words, she shook her head.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't want to go there."

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know, it's just depressing, you know, cells, fallen people…strict guards…"

"You can handle it alright?"

"Yes, of course, but -"

"Well so can I. Where do you think you get your spirit from, girl?"

Anna nodded, processing this. "It's not that."

"What is it, then?"

"Well…when John meets his mother-in-law for the first time ever…don't you think he should be given a chance to make a good impression?"

"Certainly."

"We he can't in there, he's…he's not at his best. They don't let them wash properly, the – the razors they give them are so blunt, he can't shave properly…and he's stuck in such a depressing environment, and it doesn't matter if you say it doesn't affect you, because it does, you can't stop it affecting you and it will have an impact both on how you each conduct yourselves at the time, and on your memory of it after."

Ida nodded, and there was silence for a few moments. She was looking over at the temple now, her eyes eagerly moving up and down its columns and over its arches. Suddenly, she looked back. "Am I judgemental, Anna?"

Anna looked surprised to be asked this question, but it was easy to answer. "No."

"I want to meet him, and I want to support you, both of you."

Anna couldn't speak, tears threatening to fall for the umpteenth time that day. Her mother pulled her to her breast, stroking her hair, and Anna let go.

...

"Here's the post for you, sir," said the secretary, stepping into the office and placing a small pile of letters on the desk, along with a letter opener.

"Thankyou," said Mr Murray, putting down his pen and leaning back, taking hold of the first letter. He opened it, and his eyes scanned the brief contents.

"Miss Kerr?" he called.

The secretary appeared in the doorway again. "Yes, Mr Murray."

"We will need to hire a barrister."

...

"Ah, look, another bench!" announced Mrs Smith as they arrived at the edge of the lake. "They do put them in the most beautiful places, don't they?"

"Shouldn't we head back now, Mum? You said you wanted to take the 4:30 train, and we've walked a bit of a way now."

"Oh yes, I suppose so. This is such a lovely place, I should visit more often!"

"It is lovely."

"And quite romantic."

"You think so?"

"I do. If I met a dashing man here, I'd certainly fall in love."

"That's not how love works, Mum."

Ida looked at her daughter, her eyes twinkling. "I know that, but it does help if you have somewhere romantic to go together. Like that lake, for example."

"Mmm." Anna looked back at the bench, and sighed.

"Did you and John take a few turns by the lake?"

It felt strange to hear Mr Bates referred to as "John". She'd always known that was his name, but it was so little-used. Never used, in fact, by any of the people she knew. She'd only used it once or twice herself. She decided that she should use it more, and perhaps her mother was the person she could do that with. Anna smiled.

"Yes, you did, didn't you!"

"What?"

"I know you're a hopeless romantic who loves beautiful scenery. Of course you'd bring your feller here!"

"I'm a what?"

"Any time we couldn't find you when you were a little girl, where would you be? Off over the fields, looking at the pretty meadows and the trees! The only question was, where? We knew exactly what you were doing, but could we find you? Not on my life."

"Most of the time I was by the river, wasn't I?"

"But what part of the river? Peter was easy to find, he was always on the rope swing, but you? Who knew!" Ida laughed at the memory.

"_I_ always knew where I was."

"Oh yes. You had both feet firmly planted on the ground, make no mistake. It's just that sometimes it was the ground on the hill, and sometimes it was the rocks by the river, and sometimes it wasn't the ground at all, it was a tree branch! Now, listen dear, speaking of romance -"

"- Which we weren't -"

"- I have to ask you something. With the whole secrecy thing going on, did you manage to have a wedding night?"

Anna stopped walking.

Her mother looked around. "What's wrong, dear?"

"You're going to ask me about that? Really?"

"I'm your mother, it's my job to prepare you for your wedding night! As I didn't get to do that, all I can do is ask you how it went."

"Well, only two other people know it happened at all, so don't talk too loud about it."

"Was it all right for you?"

Colour rushed to Anna's cheeks. She couldn't believe she was hearing this. And they were almost back at the road.

"Anna?"

"It was the best night of my life, but I do not want to discuss it with my mother!"

"You don't have any questions you want answered?"

"No!"

"Alright, dear, I'm only giving you the option. It can be quite confusing and scary, and if the man loses control of himself -"

"Mum! Stop talking!"

"So it was fine, then."

"Yes!"

"Good! Elise didn't have the best time, dear, that's why I ask."

"She didn't?"

"No. But it was only because they didn't know what they were doing, so she asked me, and I explained some things."

"That's very good of you."

"And now I have two married daughters! I must be getting old."

"And two married sons. Did you have these chats with them as well?"

"I tried to, but they wouldn't listen."

"No wonder."

"You know I'm only trying to help, dear."

Anna turned towards her mother with a radiant smile. "I know." She began to laugh, for the first time in ages.

Ida smiled back. "Will you come and stay, sometime soon?" She instantly regretted saying it, as she watched the smile fall from Anna's face, and watched her sigh.

"I'd love to, but…"

"But what?"

"But I have a job."

"You must be due a couple of days soon."

"No I'm not, I've been using all my days to speak to the police and the lawyer and…and something should be done about the house, I just can't face it yet."

"What house?"

"John's mother's house, in London. He says he wants to transfer ownership to me, which seems odd, but I suppose it would enable me to organise things easier. I don't know. And every other possible spare minute I get, I go and see him, so I'm afraid I don't have any spare time."

"Have you asked?"

"What?"

"I'm sure Mrs Hughes wouldn't mind, she seems to care about you."

"It's not up to Mrs Hughes."

"It's up to Lord and Lady Grantham, I know, but they're kind people, aren't they?"

"Yes, and Lord Grantham is paying for John's lawyer, I can't really ask anything more of him."

"Well, he's a very good man, then. I'm sure he'd let you have a couple of days. Come to the farm, and then we could go and see John together."

"About that. I need to ask him first. Can we leave it up to him, please?"

"Alright."

"And also, just you. Not Dad. He would be so…formal about it, and there's a time and a place."

"No, no, of course. Let's not overwhelm him."

"Good, thankyou."

They arrived at the village and walked around for a while, and before long it was time for Mrs Smith to board her train. As they walked into the station, Anna felt lighter than she had since that horrible day Mr Bates was taken away. She realised that she had enjoyed her afternoon with her mother very much.

"Thanks for coming," she said with a smile. "I've had a nice time."

"Me too! We must do it again – please come and stay."

"You know I can't promise you that."

"Promise me that you'll ask Mrs Hughes."

"Alright, alright."

"And please write to me."

Anna nodded. "I'm sorry."

"That's alright, dear." Ida pulled her daughter into a crushing hug, and Anna held on tight. She began to wonder why she'd distanced herself from her parents so much through the years, thinking that they wouldn't understand about Mr Bates. Clearly, she had been wrong.

"Thankyou for your support. I really appreciate it."

"It's what I'm here for."

The whistle blew, and Ida climbed into the third class carriage. Anna watched the train until it was out of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

Lady Mary was sitting in front of her mirror, gazing into it absently. Anna would not have found this strange, but for the look on her face.

"Are you alright, milady?"

There was no reply as Lady Mary continued to stare into the glass, her eyes unblinking.

"Lady Mary?"

"Hmm?" Lady Mary turned around slowly until she finally registered the maid standing by the door. "Anna! Sorry, I didn't see you come in. How has your day been?"

"Not bad, my lady. How about yours?"

"Oh, you know. No complaints." Lady Mary smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Anna had been going to tell Lady Mary about her mother's visit, but she sensed that now it was better to focus on her. "Are you alright, did something happen?"

"Something very good happened, actually. I had a letter from Sybil. She's blissfully happy, apparently! It was so sweet to read it."

Anna smiled. "I'm pleased to hear it."

"She's one who really deserves happiness."

"Are you jealous, my lady?"

Lady Mary raised an eyebrow, and gave a genuine smile this time. "Absolutely!"

"Me too."

"Are you now?" Lady Mary laughed.

...

Anna looked up as John entered the visiting room, and she gave him that smile. No matter how bleak things got, her smile never faltered. No matter how depressed he felt, that smile always picked him up. He even managed to smile back this time.

"How are you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Alright. How are you?"

"Oh, good in some ways, bad in others."

"Well, I'm bad in all ways, so you're doing alright!"

Anna sighed. "Have they told you?"

"Yes."

"January's a long way away."

"It is."

"But we'll make it."

John was silent, marvelling at her optimism. He needed it so badly.

"Though it does make me very angry that this means that they can unjustly imprison you for months and months before even _attempting_ to assess whether you're guilty. I've asked Mr Murray to petition for an earlier trial date."

John realised with a jolt that Anna was convinced he would be released after the trial. She hadn't even considered the alternative, that an earlier trial would mean an earlier death for him. "Anna…" he began.

"And now to my good news."

"Good news?"

"I had an impromptu visit from my mum the other day. I hadn't told her anything because I thought she wouldn't understand, but she did!" Anna grinned. "She said she wants to support us! I really enjoyed talking to her as well, it was a really nice afternoon."

John wasn't sure what to say. With Anna being an independent woman who lived many miles away from her parents, John had managed never to think about them very much. He had said a cursory, "What would your parents think?" when she'd fervently proposed getting married in secret, but she'd said it didn't matter and he'd accepted that, as he'd accepted all her other ardent declarations, because they were what he wanted to hear, when he knew that surely, if her parents were asked, the would not approve at all. They wouldn't approve of someone like him going anywhere near their daughter, especially not in his current state.

"How much did you tell her?"

"Well, Mrs Hughes told her everything, actually."

"Mrs Hughes?"

"I know, my jaw fell to the floor when I found out. I was out when she arrived, you see, and I got back to find them both having tea in Mrs Hughes' sitting room, and Mrs Hughes calmly announced that she'd 'explained everything'! You could have knocked me over with a feather, I can tell you."

"Had you been trying to keep your parents in the dark?"

"Basically, yes. I couldn't think of a way to explain it – not in a way that they'd approve of, anyway. But Mrs Hughes must have explained it very well, because Mum didn't react badly at all. I should have had more faith in her, really, because she is a wonderful person – she's rough round the edges sometimes, but she has a heart of gold, and I should have realised that she would support me if I needed it."

"Good." John gave a half-hearted smile. "That's what mums are for."

"Yeah. It's been so long since I've needed her help, I really didn't think to ask."

"What about your father?"

"Um. She didn't really mention him. Less supportive, I imagine. But, then, Mum is very persuasive, so maybe… She invited me to go to the farm for a couple of days, and two things are stopping me; one, I'm very busy, and two, I am a little worried about Dad. He's one of those men who's afraid to talk about emotional things, so he'll probably just clam up and not know what to say to me. Either that or he'll say things I don't want to hear."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

John shrugged awkwardly. "I should have asked his permission."

"Oh no, no… I don't think that applies in this situation."

"It's the polite thing to do. When doesn't it apply?"

"Oh, I don't know, when it's 1919, and when my father hasn't supported me for years! I don't even support him anymore, the farm's self-sufficient."

"That doesn't mean that the rules of propriety don't apply."

"Well, you did ask his lordship."

"I suppose so. He's your head of household now."

"I always thought it was a silly rule anyway. Who I marry is my business, not anyone else's."

"Well, and mine."

Anna smiled. "It's our business."

"Exactly."

"Now, I have to ask you something, and I must stress that the answer is entirely up to you."

"OK."

"My mum said she wants to meet you. And I said, 'Are you mad? Why would you want to come to a place like this?' but she said that the place doesn't matter, she just wants to meet you."

"OK."

"Well, think about it, you don't have to make a decision now."

"No, I've made a decision. That's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! She has a perfect right to meet me, and I'm a little curious to meet her."

Anna nodded cautiously. "Alright."

"And you should definitely go to the farm for a few days. You deserve a break."

...

Anna still didn't like to ask. She'd already been given so much time off to work on Mr Bates' case, and that was only likely to increase. So she put the idea on the back burner for a few days, throwing herself into her work as usual. The following Tuesday evening, she was sitting in the servants' hall with Miss O'Brien, each of them doing some mending. Neither was talking.

Mrs Hughes poked her head into the room and asked if she could have a word with Anna in her sitting room. "Certainly," said Anna, looking up, but then she saw Miss O'Brien's face.

"I hope you come back this time," said the lady's maid, referring to the evening of Anna's mother's visit, when Anna has spent rather a long time in Mrs Hughes' sitting room and not accomplished any mending at all. "I won't do your mending if you can't finish it."

Miss O'Brien was precisely whom Anna had been considering when she'd been thinking that she shouldn't have any more time off. She'd already made it clear that she thought Anna spent far too much time "elsewhere" and too little time working these days.

"Of course she'll finish it, Miss O'Brien," said Mrs Hughes sharply. "When does _Anna_ not finish things?"

"It's the principle in general, Mrs Hughes," Miss O'Brien continued. "You can't give one staff member more time off than others, it isn't fair."

"It's alright, I'll take it with me," said Anna, picking up her sewing and walking over to Mrs Hughes.

"And in what way can coming to talk to me in my sitting room, when I, the housekeeper, have asked her to do so, possibly be considered to be time off?"

"That's not what I meant, Mrs Hughes. It's just the principle of the thing. It was only a passing comment, don't worry about it." Miss O'Brien turned back to her mending.

Mrs Hughes waited until they were out of earshot before muttering, "The amount of time she spends complaining instead of doing work, you could be given a whole week off, quite fairly."

They stepped into Mrs Hughes' sitting room, and she closed the door, asking Anna to take a seat. Anna did so, and immediately picked up her needle and thread.

Mrs Hughes rolled her eyes. "Don't let her get to you, you know what she's like."

"It's alright," said Anna. "I need to do this, anyway. I _am_ behind."

"The ironic thing is, you getting time off is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about."

Anna's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I -"

"No, no – in a good way, Anna, I'm not telling you off! The amount of work you do compared to Miss O'Brien, it would not at all be unfair to give you more time off than her – unfortunately I can't do that, but what I can do is bring forward part of the time you'll be owed this year, and combine it with what you didn't take last year."

Anna hadn't sewed one stitch. She was too surprised. "Why?"

"Well, I received a letter from your mother today. She pointed out that you haven't been to visit your family home for more than a year and a half."

"I'm sorry, she shouldn't have -"

"She also says that you promised her that you would ask me for leave. Why haven't you?"

Anna sighed. "Because Miss O'Brien is right."

Mrs Hughes raised her eyebrows.

"I have had too much time off recently – anything I didn't take last year has been more than made up for by -"

"You haven't had time off, Anna! You've taken time to go and do things for Mr Bates, but you haven't had time _off_."

"Well…doing things for Mr Bates is hardly productive for Downton Abbey."

"He is! I know Mr Carson would like him back."

"The thing is, I've already been absent at least three days this year, and I'd like the option of doing so again, if things arise, so if I went holidaying on the farm as well, it wouldn't be fair to the other staff."

"Anna, Lord and Lady Grantham are kind employers who understand that sometimes personal matters come up which need your attention, but they will not begrudge you your precious little leisure time in lieu of that. Even Mr Carson recognises that if you continue on without a break for too long, you're liable to collapse, and then you'd be of no use to anyone, would you?"

Anna nodded.

"And I don't mean to offend you, but you've been looking tireder and tireder recently. Have you been sleeping?"

"Not really."

Mrs Hughes sighed. "Maybe fresh air on a farm for three days is just what you need."

"Three?"

"Yes. You can dress Lady Mary and Lady Edith on the morning of the first day and then go, you'll be there by lunch time. And I don't mind what time you come back on the third day."

"And you're sure the other staff won't mind? I mean, Miss O'Brien will, obviously, but everyone else?"

"If Miss O'Brien takes issue with it, I'll send her away from three days too, just to get rid of her! But everyone else, no, they will not mind. They all love you and they know you've been under a lot of strain and you deserve a break. I think Mr Bates would agree too."

"He does, he…he said I should go."

"Oh, well, for heaven's sake, don't go against what your husband says, girl!"

"Alright."

"You'll go?"

"Yes."

"Good."


	4. Chapter 4

It was all arranged for Anna to go the following Thursday. It fitted in well, because she usually visited John on a Friday. She could go to the farm on Thursday, then go with her mother to see John on Friday. She was tempted to go and see him again herself on Saturday, before returning to Downton, but she thought she'd see how things went with her family first. She got to see them so rarely, she supposed she should prioritise them, and she was sure John would say the same. Still, she was tempted to go and see him two days in a row… She was tempted to go and see him three days in a row, but she was already on a train heading north instead of south, so she supposed that wasn't going to happen.

She wondered if things had changed much at the farm. It had been quite some time since her last visit – since not long after John returned to Downton from Kirkbymoorside, she recalled. She'd been saving her next visit for a time when she could bring him, but that had never happened. It would, though. She was sure.

Her mother met her at the station, and gave her another one of those crushing hugs. "It's so good to see you! Thanks for coming!"

"It's good to see you too, Mum." Anna smiled.

"You've just a small bag, that's good, I've got the trap loaded up with fertiliser! They'll be putting next year's crop to seed soon, and there was a salesman in town selling it cheap, so I bought some for the Hickmans as well."

As her mother finished this statement, they emerged from the station, and Anna saw the trap. It was indeed piled high. It looked like s he'd have to hold her bag on her lap. "You realise it's not actually cheaper if you just buy more of it."

"They'll pay me back! I did ask them first. Oh, and I've done the shopping as well, so that's in there too, towards the front – perhaps you could put your bag there, just mind you don't squash anything."

Anna frowned. "Is it wise to mix food with fertiliser?"

"That's why your father gave me some mats to separate them!" Ida nodded knowingly, as Anna regarded the old horse mats that were sticking up haphazardly, holding the fertiliser at bay. They certainly weren't holding back the smell.

"Ah, the smell of the farm!" she said, climbing onto the seat beside her mother.

"It only smells like this once a year! If you'd only come earlier, you would have escaped it!"

The Smith farm was about eight miles from the township. There was a village closer, but it didn't have a train line. Anna's parents lived in the small house, by the barn. Her elder brother, Peter, lived in the big house with his wife Janet and their children. When Anna was a child, she had lived in the big house with her siblings and parents, and her grandparents had lived in the small house. Now, the generations had moved on.

Anna heard a child's shout as the trap neared the farm's driveway, which quickly multiplied as four more children appeared at the end of the drive, whilst the boy who'd shouted first chased the trap up the driveway towards them. He was her eldest nephew, Alec, and she was pretty pleased to see that he still remembered her. The others she wasn't really expecting to. Alec was nine, and the last time she'd seen him, he'd been eight, but Peter and Janet's second child had died in early infancy, so Alec's eldest living sibling was three years younger than him. That meant that she was only five the last time Anna saw her, and the others even younger, so she didn't expect them to remember much about their last meeting.

When the trap pulled up, Alec said, "Welcome, Auntie Anna," in a very polite voice, and held out his hand to help her down.

"Oh, look how grown up you are!" Anna exclaimed. Touched, she took his hand, but didn't lean on it as she jumped down from the cab, pulling him into a hug as soon as she reached ground level.

"I got tall!" said the boy proudly. "You used to be lots taller!"

"You used to be much shorter, Alec," corrected his mother, stepping forward to give Anna a warm hug. "Auntie Anna hasn't shrunk!"

"No, I got taller, that's what I said!"

"She's not as tall as Daddy," observed Alec's five-year-old brother, James.

"Of course she's not, girls aren't as tall as boys!" hissed their sister, Eileen.

"James!" admonished Janet. "Haven't we talked about not saying _every_ single thing we think about other people?"

"But Eileen's taller than me, Mummy!"

"Alright, shoosh, the lot of ya!" came a booming male voice.

Anna looked up to see her father walking across the yard towards her. She smiled. "Hi, Dad."

"Hello, Anna, love," said Pete Smith, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. He looked older, she noticed. He regarded her closely, thinking the exact same thought about her.

"Where's young Peter?" Anna's mother asked.

"Ploughin' with Jack," her father replied. "He'll be in for lunch."

Fossicking in her bag, Anna pulled out five small chocolates, one for each of the children. The smallest was only one, so she placed his chocolate into the hands of his mother.

"Don't I get one?" Anna's father asked.

"Umm, you get a kiss," she replied, leaning forward to give him one, at which he beamed.

"Aw, you got the better end of the deal, didn't you, Pete?" said Janet.

The older man blushed, frowned and turned away.

...

They had a pleasant family lunch, in the big house's large kitchen with Anna's brother and the farm hand, Jack. Listening to the friendly family banter around the table, Anna was feeling the best she had in ages. For the first time since her husband had been taken away, she was actually feeling happy.

After lunch, Peter and Jack went back to work while Alec took Anna on a tour of the farm. Actually, her father was under the impression that he was leading the tour, but in reality, Alec was striding further ahead, telling Anna many more things.

"How come you're not helping with the ploughing, Alec?" asked the boy's grandfather, roughly interrupting an explanation of the habits of the family's goats which the older man clearly thought had been going on for too long.

"Mum asked me to take care of Auntie Anna," Alec replied.

"Your gran and I can do that."

"Leave off him, Dad," said Anna, stroking Alec's hair. "He's a wonderful host."

"He has other responsibilities too, that's all I'm saying."

"Well, I'm enjoying my first proper day off in a long while, but I need Alec to enjoy it with me."

Alec grinned up at Anna, very pleased that she'd gone in to bat for him.

Pete Snr shook his head and walked back to the house, his brow furrowed.

...

"Do you notice the difference?" Ida Smith asked, as she took a plate from her daughter-in-law and began to dry it.

"I do."

"You do? Well, I'm not imagining it, then. It seems good for her to be here, she was smiling quite a bit over lunch, but her eyes still looked tired."

"Yeah."

"I don't think she's getting much sleep."

"I know I wouldn't."

"I'll make her some tea tonight, with some hops and camomile. That usually helps."

"You ladies gossiping?" grunted Pete, coming into the house and sitting down at the kitchen table.

"No," his wife replied. "It's not gossip. I was just wondering how I could get Anna to sleep better."

"I don't think camomile would fix her problems."

"Well, it's worth a try!"

"Bastard. I can't believe what he's done to her."

"Now, now. Let's hold our judgement until all the facts are in."

"I wish you'd take me with you tomorrow, I'll get all the facts!"

"Not with that attitude, you wouldn't. I don't want Anna hearing you talk like that, alright?"

Pete grunted and turned away.

"Who is he, anyway?" asked Janet.

"A colleague. Lord Grantham's valet. She has mentioned him to me before, and I thought he sounded a very nice man."

"He's not Lord Grantham's valet anymore, is he? How's he meant to support a wife like that?" Pete scoffed and looked at the wall.

"You knew?" Janet asked Ida.

"I didn't say that. Anna mentioned Mr Bates in the odd letter, along with Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson and Lady Mary and lord knows how many of the rest of them. I did pick up that she thought very highly of him, but I did not know they were engaged."

"What sort of a man marries a nice young girl without asking her father's permission first? Hmm?"

"They had to marry in a hurry, Peter, I've explained that to you."

"Would you have given it?" asked Janet.

"Absolutely not!"

"Oh, so that's what you're really annoyed about, is it?" said Ida, winking at Janet.

"No, that's only the smallest part of it, but -"

"Shh!" hissed Janet, looking out the window. "They're coming back!"

"…I don't like English very much, I prefer maths," Alec was saying, as he and Anna walked through the yard to the back door.

"Really? That takes some brains, well done!"

"I think it'll be useful when I take over the farm. So I know what's happening with money and that."

"I think it will be." Anna stepped into the kitchen, to find all faces turned on her. "Hello…" she said, hesitantly. "What's going on in here?"

"How about a cup of tea?" asked Ida.

...


	5. Chapter 5

After two helpings of roast chicken and potatoes, followed by apple crumble with lashings of cream, and an awful lot of conversation, Anna felt ready for bed. First the children, then the adults started ascending the stairs to bed. Anna wasn't staying at the big house, she was staying with her parents in the small house, so they all stood up and began preparing to leave.

"It's alright, stay longer if you like," yawned Janet.

"Thanks, love, but we'd better get going," said Ida, stepping towards the door.

"Thankyou for a wonderful meal, Janet," said Anna, giving her sister-in-law a hug.

"Hey, you did at least half of the work!"

"No, I didn't!"

They said their goodnights, and Anna and her parents walked across the barnyard to the small house.

"Tea?" asked Ida as they entered.

Anna smiled. No matter what the occasion, her mother always thought that a cup of tea was a good idea. She'd developed some of the habit herself through her upbringing, but not as strong, and lately, she hadn't been having as much tea as she used to – not in the evenings, anyway. Thinking about it, she reasoned that this was probably because her mother had always made tea for everyone, so Anna had always thought of it as a social thing. Therefore, she wasn't drinking it much now, because at the moment, she was spending her evenings alone.

That was probably it, she reasoned.

She was not, however, alone now, and her mother was looking at her quizzically.

"Tea, Anna?"

"Love some."

"Good. It won't be what you're used to, mind. I'm going to make you some sleepy tea!"

"Some what?"

Anna's mother didn't reply, having already disappeared into the kitchen.

Her father collapsed into what was clearly his favourite armchair. It looked a little worse for wear.

"You've still got the same chair?" Anna asked, sitting down on the settee.

"Oh yes. I'd never part with this."

"Due for a re-covering, I think."

"Oh no, no. It's fine."

He looked up at her, then back at the chair. "No, no." Then he looked up again, and she could feel his eyes on her.

"What time do you want to leave tomorrow, love?" asked Ida, poking her head back into the room.

Anna breathed in, remembering what was to happen tomorrow. "Umm…we're going in the trap, are we?"

"Yes. And it's a fair way."

"Yes it is, it's an hour from Downton, and that's in the car."

"Oh, she can fly along, don't you worry. Two hours, do you think?"

"More like two and a half. Are you sure you want to do this, Mum?"

"Why on earth aren't you taking the train?" asked Pete.

"Because the prison isn't close to a train station, and neither are we. It won't be any quicker to take the train – I did check, love."

"But you'd be far more comfortable! Look at the girl, the last thing she needs is to be clattering around in a trap all day!"

"The prison's not that far from the station," said Anna.

"It isn't? I heard that it was. How far?"

"Well surely you could take a local bus or a tram anyway!" Pete snorted.

"It's less than a mile, I'm sure."

"Oh!"

The shriek of a kettle came from the kitchen, and Ida rushed off to make the tea.

"You should come more often," Pete said softly. "We miss you."

Anna smiled at him. "I would like to."

"Are you alright, Anna?"

"You know me, Dad. I'm made of strong stuff."

...

They took the trap to the station, and then took the train. Ida was talking about a variety of things the whole way, but stopped when they got onto the train because of the large number of people who might overhear. She continued to say the odd unremarkable thing, but the real questions she wanted to ask Anna had to be postponed. She couldn't stop thinking about them, though, and hadn't done the previous day either. Neither had Pete, based on what he'd said to her that night in bed. But how do you ask?

As they walked out of the station, Anna was looking around, and her face looked even gloomier than it had earlier. She was remembering the last time she had been here. When she had met Mr Bates on the platform and they had happily walked through these doors together, her arm through his, and down the street.

They were walking the same way now. Anna swallowed.

"Tell me about him, Anna."

Anna was looking towards the cathedral, not giving any indication that she'd heard what her mother had said.

"Anna?"

"What?"

"Tell me about him."

Anna raised her eyebrows, unsure. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know, anything. Where is he from, for example. Little titbits I can ask him about."

"He's from London."

"Is he? Oh!"

They fell silent again, Anna guiding them through the city streets.

"How do you know your way around here?"

"I'm not sure. I've only been here once or twice. I remember it pretty vividly, that's all."

"Do you often take the train to visit him?"

"No, usually Lord Grantham allows me to go in the car."

"Oh, that's very nice of him!"

"It is."

"Does he know John well?"

"John saved his life."

"What? When?"

"In the African war."

"He served in Africa?"

"Yes."

"See, this is what I want to know about, Anna – you haven't told me anything at all about him!"

"I know, I'm sorry. It's hard for me to talk about him, I…sort of clam up."

"It makes you sad?"

"A bit. Listen, there is one thing that you should know. You should know that he has a limp, he's limping quite heavily at the moment, actually. It's because they won't let him use his cane."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, normally he uses a cane, and he can walk fine with that, but they won't let him use it in there so he has to…well, he has to limp a lot more."

"Why does he limp?"

"Because he has some shrapnel stuck behind his knee."

Mrs Smith almost stopped walking. She hadn't been expecting this.

"I'm sorry, Mum, I haven't told you even the most basic thing about him, have I?"

"Are you telling me that my son-in-law is a decorated war hero?"

"I don't know if he's decorated. He never talks about it. So _don't_ ask, alright?"

"Oh, men!"

...

He was hopelessly nervous. He hadn't felt this way since his wedding day. Those were happy nerves, though. These were more…threatening. What if she didn't like him? What if she told her daughter to divorce him?

The prisoners who were expecting visitors were lined up and lead into the visitation room. Then the visitors were allowed in from the other side, in a much less ordered manner, allowed to find their respective seats on their own. John scanned the crowd for Anna, locking her eyes with his own. She smiled.

As Anna and Ida approached the table, John stood and politely nodded at his mother-in-law.

"Mum, this is John," said Anna.

"Bates! Sit down!" barked a guard.

"After you, Mrs Smith," he said.

"Bates!"

Anna and Ida quickly sat, and so did John, seconds before the guard reached him.

"I won't tell you again," the guard sneered.

"I was greeting my mother-in-law, sir," said John calmly.

"I don't care what you were doing! No standing, and no touching!"

"Understood, officer." John stared straight ahead, and winked at Anna. The guard walked away.

"No touching?" said Ida. "Really?"

"Yeah, that's the worst part," said Anna.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs Smith," said John. "I should not have put you through that."

"Oh no, you have to stand up for yourself. Can't let them walk _all_ over you!"

John remembered the few things Anna had told him about her mother. She had definitely sounded like a woman with spirit. So was Anna. He smiled.

There was awkward silence for a moment, broken by Anna asking him how he was.

"I'm fine," he said. "How are you?"

"Not bad at all. I've been having a nice time on the farm."

"Good! I thought you would." John smiled.

Ida watched them look into each other's eyes.

"Mrs Smith…I'm so sorry that we haven't met before now. It is entirely my fault, and it was disrespectful of me."

Ida nodded. "Thankyou."

"I wish things could have been different. And I wish they were different now."

"Me too. I wish I could have got to know you before the wedding, but that didn't happen, so we'd better start now."

"That was my fault, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for causing so much worry for you now."

"Alright, now stop apologising, and tell me about yourself."

John smiled weakly. He could see exactly where Anna got it from. "Thankyou for giving me the chance to do that. I know I don't deserve it."

Anna intervened. "She's accepted your apology, John. And it wasn't your fault anyway."

John looked into her eyes. His heart broke every time she told him that. He knew it wasn't true, and yet she seemed to think it was. He wasn't sure why.

"Tell me about yourself, John," Ida repeated. "I won't bite."

John smiled broadly this time, making his eyes crinkle. "Err, alright, well, where to start… I grew up in London. My mum was from Ireland, Dad was from London, and he had a bookshop there, which was my first job… and then as a young man I joined the army. Did that for a few years, and now I, well, I was working for Lord Grantham as his valet, and I hope to do so again."

"What brought you to Yorkshire?"

"Well, my time in the army had come to an end…" John winced and looked at Anna. She fixed him with a stare, and nodded. Her mother didn't need any more details than that.

"I'd known Lord Grantham in the army, and he'd told me about his estate, I thought it sounded nice and I was looking for a change of scenery." He winced again. "But more than that, I really needed a job, and he had said to me once that if I ever needed anything, I should ask him. I called in the favour."

"He's really good at his job, though," said Anna. "When he first came, people thought that because he had a limp he wouldn't be able to do anything. Mr Carson, everyone, they were really hard on him."

"Anna was the only one who had faith in me." John smiled.

"But he proved them all wrong, and after a few weeks there, everyone loved him – not only because he's good at his job, and if there's anything he can't do, he does something else to make up for it, but also because he's such a lovely man, he's a respected senior staff member, he provides a responsible, non-judgemental presence for the younger staff to look up to, and… and everyone really misses him now."

"Do they really?" John whispered.

"Very much so. Mrs Hughes said the other day, when she was ordering me to take these three days off, I said, 'No, I shouldn't do that, because I've already had lots of time off this year to deal with police and lawyers and things,' and Mrs Hughes said that that didn't count as time off, and I said, 'Well, if I'm not doing something productive for Downton Abbey, then surely it does,' and she said, 'Freeing Mr Bates _is_ productive for Downton Abbey, Mr Carson wants him back!'"

John laughed, and Anna and Ida joined him.

His face became serious again. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Thought it might."

"So, Mrs Smith. Have you spent your whole life in Yorkshire?"

"Oh, my turn, is it? Yes, I have. Grew up in Topcliffe, worked as a housemaid for a family in Thirsk for a while, and then I became a farmer's wife."

"A fine profession!"

"You think so?"

"Well, you keep the farmer fed, and the farmer keeps the rest of us fed. His job is important, but he wouldn't be able to do it without you."

Ida smiled. "You're a charmer."

John winced again. "I'm sorry – that's not what I meant to do, I mean, I – well, I suppose I do want to, but I did mean what I said, I wasn't just saying it."

"Hey, sucking up to your mother-in-law is always a good idea!"

"That's not what I was doing, I mean – well, maybe I – am I?" he asked Anna, who was smiling broadly by this point.

"He's the sort of nice man who says that sort of thing anyway," Anna explained to Ida, who nodded knowingly.

"No, don't talk me up, I'm not – I shouldn't even be…" He sighed. "Mrs Smith, please don't listen to what Anna says about me, because she is very, very biased."

Anna laughed out loud.

"Well, you have already proven that you are a polite and charming man by calling me Mrs Smith, which you don't have to do, you can call me Ida."

John took a breath, and smiled at her. "Thankyou."


	6. Chapter 6

Despite the usual heart-wrenching angst of having to watch him be led away, Anna had a wonderful day. The mood of the conversation was much lighter with a third person present, and John and her mother seemed to get along well. On the train back, she was able to talk about him like she never had before, going into all sorts of details and emotions she never thought she'd express to another person. Only after being asked, but nevertheless. She finally opened up.

Returning to the farm was very pleasant too, and Anna was immediately swept up into a game of hide and seek with the three oldest children.

"Go go go!" cried James, tearing across the yard as Alec began to count backwards from 10.

"Come on!" hissed Eileen, grabbing Anna's hand and pulling her into the barn.

Pete appeared in the doorway of the small house, gesturing roughly for his wife to come inside.

...

"Well?" said the old farmer, closing the door.

"Well what?"

"What's he like?"

Ida hung her coat and hat on the hook by the door. "He's nice. He's very polite."

"'Polite' is not the same as nice."

"He's polite _and_ nice. We had a pleasant conversation… He and Anna smiled at each other – it was quite cute to watch."

"What do you mean, 'smiled at each other'?"

"I mean exactly that, with a look of utter devotion in their eyes."

"Well that doesn't sound good!"

"What? Aren't you happy that your daughter has found someone who loves her?"

"Does he, though? That's the big question."

"From the way he was looking at her, yes, I'd say he does."

Pete's eyebrows rose in alarm. "Looking at her? What do you mean, how was he looking at her?"

Ida rolled her eyes. "Lovingly. Like he was very pleased to see her."

"Well of course he was, she's the only pretty thing he sees all week!"

Ida had disappeared into the kitchen. "Would you like some tea, love?" she called.

"Yeah, thanks." Pete had been frowning since the trap had returned, and showed no sign of stopping yet.

Ida put the kettle on to boil.

"Oh, by the way, we're eating here tonight," Pete said, leaning on the kitchen doorway.

"What? I thought Janet was arranging a family dinner again – it's Anna's last night!"

"Precisely, and I want to talk to her."

"Oh, Peter, what about? I've been talking to her all day."

"There are some things she needs to hear from her father."

"Janet baked an extra loaf of bread earlier!"

"We're gonna have breakfast there. Cooked breakfast. Compromise."

"You mean you went over there, where she was studiously preparing a family dinner, and said, 'Can we put it off 'till tomorrow morning, I'll just make my wife cook a meal in the small house after she gets home from a long day in the trap and on the train.'"

"And in the prison."

"Yes, that too."

"I can't believe I let you go there."

"You are skating on thin ice, Peter Smith!"

"Alright, I'll help you with the potato scrubbing!"

...

"Sorry about the turnips, love, they're a bit past their prime," said Ida, ladling a large serving of vegetables onto Anna's plate.

"They look fine to me, they look nice!" Anna smiled. "The fish looks fantastic too, who caught that?"

"I did," said Pete glumly. "Went to the river today."

"Well done, Dad, they're a good size!"

"Yeah." Unsure of what else to say, Pete began tucking in to his meal.

Ida and Anna did the same, and silence fell for a while.

"I might go to the river tomorrow," said Anna. "I'd almost forgotten it was there!"

Ida almost choked on her food. "You what? You were down there every other day when you were young!"

"Yeah, that's why I'd like to go back."

"There's a nice lake at Downton, though, isn't there? Do you go there much?"

"Yeah." Anna sighed. "I do."

They fell silent again. Anna could feel her father's eyes on her, as she had done for almost her entire visit. Every time she glimpsed his face, she had to look away again – he looked worried, and it made her feel guilty.

"Were you down there long, Dad?"

Pete started. "What?"

"At the river."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I s'pose. It's a good place to stop and think."

"It is. Water is good with that, the sound of it is soothing. Helps the mind, I think."

"Yeah."

Anna took another bite of fish, and the conversation abruptly stopped again. She looked at her mother, realising she'd never heard her so quiet before. Ida was looking at Pete with a somewhat curious, questioning look on her face. Anna turned back to her father. He looked like something was bottled up inside of him, desperate to escape.

"Is there something you want to say, Dad?"

"What?"

"You're being very quiet. Both of you are, actually, it's a bit strange."

"Yeah. There is something I want to say."

"OK."

Pete sighed. "The thing is, Anna… There isn't as much shame around…" he paused, and lowered his voice, "_divorce_ as there used to be."

"WHAT?" Anna spluttered.

"I mean it's, it's OK, don't feel as if you can't, because I would support you, and so would your mother."

"Why _on earth_ would I want a divorce?"

"Well nobody wants it, but sometimes you make decisions that don't work out, and -"

"Oh, is that what you think this is, you think it's a failed decision on my part?"

"You did it in haste, and -"

"Trust me, Dad, no part of my relationship with John has been done in haste!"

"You need to focus on yourself. You have your own life, you can't live it for somebody else."

"Yes I can, when I love him!"

"Don't lose sight of yourself."

"I haven't! But I'm at my best when I'm with him!"

"The thing is, love…" Pete winced. "The thing is, you can't be with him."

"Oh, so you have no hope at all." Anna threw down her knife and fork. "Thanks for that!"

"Sometimes you have to cut your losses, even when it hurts."

"Do you think I married him the only chance I had just so I could throw it all away? If Mum got thrown in prison, would you abandon her?"

"That's different, your mother and I have been married for years -"

"How is that different?"

"You were only married for three days before they took him away!"

"Yes, and that is tragic! It does not, however, make our relationship any less loving or committed than yours is!"

"There are some things that you can only understand with time. If you take some time to get some distance and some perspective, then you may find that you would get on perfectly fine without him – you are now, after all."

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine now, am I?"

Pete looked down, fiddling with the edge of his plate. "I can see that you're not, and I want to protect you from that, but the only way I can see that you can do it is to get away."

"Mum, you don't agree with this, do you?"

Ida sighed. "I think John's a nice man, but so is your father, and he has your best interests at heart, so we should hear him out."

"But what he has at heart is not in my best interests!"

"You can't see it when you're in the thick of it!" Pete interjected. "In the heat of the moment, we don't make the best decisions, because we can't see the situation from the outside. I can, and I think that if you just get some distance, it will get better, and the pain you're feeling now will fade."

"Do you think love fades?"

"When it comes to matters of the heart, it is very easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment and misidentify feelings like that."

"Oh, so you think I don't really love him."

"Maybe if you don't see him for a while, it'll fade."

"You haven't seen me for over a year, did you stop loving me?"

"That's different."

"No. It isn't. I have loved John for seven years, Dad, count them. Longer than James, Alice and Mark have been alive. I have had many years to think about it, I have had plenty of distance, I have been separated from him before and I didn't stop loving him, I won't stop loving him now, and if we hadn't been able to get married, I would have lived in sin with him in some foreign country!"

Ida gasped audibly, and Pete's eyebrows reached his receding hairline. "Don't say things like that in front of your mother!" he hissed.

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle it. I can."

"Now you listen here, you come here, you take a respectable older woman into a prison where you've been going _weekly_ for God knows how long, being exposed to dirty, rotting ideas -"

"I had that idea well before I ever set foot in a prison, Dad. It came from me, it came from love, and there is nothing dirty or rotting about it."

"OK! I believe you. You love him. I can see that very strongly, and I believe you, but what you have to ask yourself is, is he worthy of your love?"

A tear rolled down Anna's cheek. "Yes. He is."

"Does he have your best interests at heart? Because if he doesn't, then he's not worthy, and Anna, a man who marries an innocent young girl when he knows he's about to be carted off by the police, possibly to be sentenced to death, does not have her best interests at heart! Would he sit by and let you become the widow of a murderer?"

Anna's chair fell to the floor with a clatter as she leapt up and ran from the room.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear Anna,_

_Thankyou for bringing your mother to meet me today. And, as always, thankyou so much for coming to see me yourself. You always brighten my day, and, indeed, my entire week._

_I can now see where you get your stoicism, your strength of personality and your fundamentally non-judgemental nature from. I liked your mother very much. You do it all better than she does, though, obviously. You are perfect in every way, and I cannot wait to see you again._

_By the time you get this, you will already be back at Downton. I hope you enjoyed your time with your family and that you will not delay going to visit them ever again. Was that on my account? If it was, I am truly sorry._

_Please thank your mother for being so kind to me. I know I do not deserve it, particularly considering what I am putting her daughter through. I was pleasantly surprised by her stoicism, and I am very grateful for her consideration._

_I can't wait to see you again, my love, and I remain_

_Yours always,_

_John Bates_

John put his pen down on the desk, and leaned back in his chair, stretching.

"Lights out!" boomed a voice from along the corridor, and there came the sound of many prisoners preparing for bed.

John blew out his candle, grabbed his photo of Anna from the desk, and lay down.

...

The tears flowed freely, as they did all too often these days. Anna could hear her parents arguing in the kitchen. Walking away from it, her eyes fell upon the big house. Light shone from the kitchen window, and she heard a loud giggle as her brother's silhouette wrapped around the silhouette of his wife. Anna's eyes darkened. She was angry, sure, but not at them. Of them, she was only jealous.

A raised voice came from the house behind her. "Well _I'm_ going to go and see if she's alright, if you're quite finished!"

She heard the back door open and footsteps in the yard. "Anna?" came her mother's voice.

Anna was silent, but didn't move away as the footsteps approached her.

"There you are!"

Anna kept her eyes on the silhouettes of her brother and sister-in-law. She felt her mother's arm slip around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry about him. He was never very tactful."

"Do you agree with him?"

"Honestly? No. But it is really bothering him and he needed to get it out. He's been grumpy for days."

A sob escaped Anna's throat. And then another.

Ida pulled her closer. "I'm sorry, love. I should have stopped him before he..."

Anna sobbed harder.

"That last thing he said, that's not going to happen. I can see that John's a nice man, and I'm sure the jury will too. It'll be alright."

...

Anna barely slept that night. Being in a foreign bed, a foreign room, didn't help. She realised that this place didn't feel like home anymore. Familiar, yes. But not home. The prison felt more like home than here. Because that's where John was.

She just wanted to go home. This wasn't home anymore. She'd had a nice time initially, but she wasn't now, so why did she have to stay longer? She didn't, she realised. She didn't have to stay longer. She didn't have to go to the river, or do anything else here. She could spend her last day off with John instead.

That was a good idea. She'd go to the family breakfast, and then leave. That was the best thing to do. There was a silver lining inside every cloud – this one would mean more time with John.

Satisfied with her decision, Anna finally went to sleep.

...

"Hey! Hello!" John beamed. "Two visits in two days! How lucky am I?"

Anna only smiled.

"I thought you were spending another day at the farm?"

"I was going to, but I changed my mind. There's somewhere I'd rather spend my last day off."

John looked around. "Here? Are you joking?"

"Yes. Here."

"Well, I feel very privileged that you've come to visit me at my humble abode."

Anna's eyes twinkled.

"Don't prioritise me over your family, though."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, you don't see them very often."

Anna sighed. "Two days was enough, believe me."

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing I'd care to discuss."

"Anna."

Her foot had begun jiggling nervously. John stroked it with his own. "Tell me," he said.

Anna wrinkled her nose. "Had a row with my dad."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Was it…was it about me?"

"Yes, but that doesn't make it your fault."

"What did he say?"

Anna looked down, fidgeting with her fingernails. "That I should divorce you."

"You can if you want."

"WHAT?"

"No, I know you don't want, I just want you to know that I would release you."

"Look, I've heard enough of this last night, will you stop it?"

"OK." John smiled. He looked at her. She looked ragged. His insides seized with guilt. "You should bring your dad to see me," he said.

"Goodness, no. I wouldn't put you through that."

"I don't mind. I can understand how he feels."

"Can you? I can't."

"He loves you. He doesn't want you to be hurt."

"So he's prescribing the thing that would hurt me the most?"

"I didn't say he understands you."

"Mmm."

"I think I could have a productive conversation with him – I know where he's coming from. If I was your father, I wouldn't want you to have anything to do with a man like me."

"How is that a productive line of thought? I wish I'd never told them about you."

"Hey, now. They're your family and they love you."

"Can we stop talking about it please? I want to enjoy my day with you."

"Alright. But if I can help with this, please let me."

"You can't, but thankyou."

"I'm sorry."

...

"Oh, her ladyship returns, about time," sneered the scowling lady's maid as Anna returned to the servant's hall that evening.

"I missed you too, Miss O'Brien," replied Anna, determined to give as good as she got.

Lady Mary's bell rang.

"That's yours, then," sneered Miss O'Brien.

"With pleasure," Anna smiled.

...

"Anna! Good. I missed you."

"Thankyou, my lady. I'm very sorry to have lumbered you with Miss O'Brien."

"That's alright, it couldn't be helped. Did you have a nice time?"

"It was alright."

Lady Mary's plastered-on smile faltered for a moment. "Oh?"

"You know families."

"Oh, yes." Lady Mary nodded enthusiastically. "I do."

The two didn't speak much more as Anna set about getting Lady Mary ready for bed. Anna became lost in her thoughts again, and she didn't need to say anything more as she quietly went about her work.

When she was done, she said the customary, "Will that be all, my lady?"

There was no response, as Lady Mary stared into the mirror, absent-mindedly fiddling with a stray strand of hair. Anna had to repeat herself before she got a response.

"Oh! Sorry. Yes, that'll be all, thankyou Anna."

"Are you alright, my lady?"

Lady Mary nodded. "Perfectly. And you?"

Anna nodded too. Perfectly.


	8. Chapter 8

Pete sat on the back porch, a glass of ale in his hand. It was a week since Anna had left, and he'd done this every day since. The ale was normal, but the sitting alone for hours and hours wasn't. Ida had given up trying to talk to him about it.

The older children charged out of the house and began running around the yard like mad things. Alec seemed to be holding something aloft that Eileen was trying to get hold of. They were running dangerously close to the garden.

"Get away from me strawberry patch!" yelled Pete.

Unperturbed, the kids ran in the other direction.

"Just give it back to her, Alec!" called Janet, stepping through the back door of her house.

"Kids today," grumbled her father-in-law.

"They don't listen, do they?" Janet agreed.

"No they do not."

The woman frowned, regarding Pete carefully. "You OK, Dad? You've been a bit quiet recently."

"I'm fine, thankyou."

"If something's bothering you, it's best to let it out somehow."

"Yeah, well I did that, and it only made it worse."

"There are ways of doing it."

"Do you think Anna's pregnant?"

Janet's eyes widened. "What?"

"Could that be why, do you think?"

"Why what?"

"Oh, never mind. I'm just trying to make sense of it."

"Why she married him, you mean?"

"Yeah. Maybe she had to."

"Usually people get married because they love each other."

"Yeah, I know, she said that. I'm trying to figure it out from his side too."

"From his side?"

"Yeah. I'd like to know what he wants from her."

"You could ask him."

"And if it's not a reasonable expectation, I'd like to tell him where he can shove it."

Janet rolled her eyes. "Why are you being so negative about it?"

"Because it's a negative thing!"

"If you take that attitude, she'll never speak to you again."

Pete fell silent again. If Janet didn't know him better, she would have sworn she could see his lip quivering.

"She never even said goodbye," he whispered.

...

_Dear Mr Smith,_

_I write to express my sincerest apology. I know that there is no excuse for what I have done to your daughter and I do not ask for your forgiveness, but I do want you to know that I am sorry._

_I had courted Anna for some time, so to us this is not sudden, but I understand why it seems so to you. I also know that I had no right to court her, given that I was married to somebody else at the time, but I assure you that I would not have done so had I not had a reasonable belief that I would soon be free to marry her._

_I promise you I never did anything to compromise her honour._

_I also promise you that I did not murder anyone._

_I should have asked your permission. I am sorry. I can only protest that I intended to, but did not have the time to do so. But this argument does not stand up given the extraordinary length of our courtship. I have no excuse._

_I love Anna more than any one, or any thing. Please believe me that I mean her no harm. If I ever get out of here, I will devote the rest of my life to her happiness and well-being. It is all I care about. _

_If I do not get out of here, I have a sum of money and a house in London which will be hers. She will want for nothing. It is the least I can do._

_Yours sincerely,_

_John Bates_

...

"How's Downton?" John's eyes twinkled the way they always did when he asked that question. He was living vicariously through it.

"Not bad. Not much has been happening, really."

"There must be something."

"Mr Carson's been complaining about the lack of footmen. He says the war's been over for nearly nine months now, so we no longer have an excuse for, in his words, 'sloppy presentation'."

"By which he means you serving dinner?"

"Well, it's mostly he and Thomas doing it now. He'd just like some help, I think."

"Ah, Thomas. I see."

"Do you think he's the sloppy presentation?" Anna giggled.

"I hope not! No, sloppy is not a word I would associate with Thomas."

"I think we should change the subject, what are we talking about Thomas for?"

"I don't mind, anything about Downton sounds nice to me."

There was a pause, as there often was between them, even more frequently now. There always had been, but Anna used to be able to lean her head on his shoulder or hold his hand during these pauses. Or they'd be in the servant's hall doing some mending, and their hands were busy. But in this place, there was nothing to fill the pauses except their own tortured thoughts. Anna couldn't even look around, because there would inevitably be some scary-looking prisoner staring at her, and she would rather not see his eyes.

"Have you heard from your parents?"

"From Mum, yes. She wrote a nice letter thanking me for coming to stay and saying how much she enjoyed meeting you."

John smiled. "I can see where you get it from."

"What?"

He shrugged. "Being so kind and understanding all the time."

"It's just being a reasonable person. It's not hard."

"Yes it is. For most people, it is."

"Most people I know are perfectly reasonable. Including you."

John chuckled. "I work at it. You don't, that's the difference."

"Oh, don't be silly – nobody's nice all the time, but being nice most of the time is not hard, for me or for you."

"Winning arguments with your wife, on the other hand, is quite difficult!"

Anna giggled.

"I wrote a letter to your dad."

"What? Why?"

"To apologise…and to reassure him that I mean you no harm."

"Why would you mean me harm?"

"Well I wouldn't, obviously, but he's never met me, he doesn't know that. But particularly, I needed to apologise for not asking his permission. That was a pretty big…"

"…faux pas?"

"Yes, which he was probably offended by."

"I still think it's silly."

"I know, but you are a modern twentieth century woman, and your father is a nineteenth century man."

"That's a good way of putting it, actually. Polar opposites, really."

"Absolutely."

"But aren't you a nineteenth century man?"

"In many ways, I am. But…" John looked up, thinking. "…I had to break a lot of rules to be with you, and I stopped caring after a while."

"That's the way. I never cared in the first place." Anna smiled slyly.

"Oh, is that how you managed to seduce me?"

The sly smile became a grin, which they shared for a moment, before Anna became serious. "We should stop talking about it like this, because when it comes to you and me, there is absolutely _nothing_ wrong about it."

"No, there isn't."

"Look, my dad isn't much one for words and writings, so I don't know if you'll get a reply."

"That's fine. Just as long as he knows that I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."


	9. Chapter 9

"Visitor, Bates."

Bates looked up, surprised. Anna had only been two days ago, and she was back at work now, so it couldn't be her. It must be Mr Murray. Had they brought the trial date forward? John limped towards the visitor's hall in trepidation, a feeling of foreboding settling in the pit of his stomach. But at the table the guards directed him to sat, not Murray, but somebody else, a man he had never seen before. He was older, with a weathered and lived-in face, but still a thick shock of hair that had very little grey in it, and John realised that he probably wasn't as old as he looked - maybe only ten years older than him, at the most. In here, he reflected, with his own thick stubble and general unkemptness, they probably looked the same age.

As John approached, the man saw him, and regarded him with an expression that could only be described as shock, which deepened with every uneven step John took towards him.

John wasn't sure what to think. "Hello," he said.

"_You're_ John Bates?" the man asked, his expression becoming, if it were possible, even more incredulous.

"Yes," John replied, sitting down. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"No, you haven't," the man said grimly. "I'm your bloody father-in-law, mate."

It was John's turn to look incredulous. "Mr Smith?" he spluttered, making to stand again and hold out his hand, only to be stopped by, not one, but two guards, one barking, "Sit down, Bates!", the other, "No touching!"

"I'm sorry, sir," John said. "I would like to shake your hand…but…" he gestured lamely to the guards.

"And what makes you think I'd take it?"

John swallowed. "Nothing at all. But I should like to offer it to you all the same."

"The way you walk, why is that?"

John took a shaky breath. "That is because I have a piece of shrapnel lodged behind my knee, which inhibits the movement of the joint, and…" He realised that the details of the severity and permanence of the injury were probably not going to make him sound a better husband, so he abruptly stopped talking.

"Bloody war hero, are you?"

"No, I…the presence of an injury is not necessarily an indication of-"

"When'd it happen?"

"1902, in Africa."

"So it's not going to get any better?"

John sighed. "No."

"Uh-huh. What sort of husband do you hope to be, then?"

"I can do most things, just a little slower than some people."

"Most, you say?"

"Yes, I can do most things just fine."

"Well, the other question is, how much longer can you do them for? How old are you?"

"Forty-six."

"I'm fifty-four. There are several things I can't do on the farm anymore."

"I would struggle with farm work, yes. But I don't work on a farm."

"Yes, I know, you're a valet. Or you were."

"Which I manage perfectly ably, and -"

"Yeah, and what if Lord Grantham dies, eh? Then you've lost your job. What would you do then?"

"Well, Anna and I have a plan, when we are able and ready, to sell my mother's house in London, and use the money to buy a small hotel in Yorkshire. That would provide both a steady income for us, and a secure inheritance for our children."

"A pub, I see. And would you be able to lift the barrels onto the bar, or would Anna have to do that?"

John looked at his hands. "I'd find a way," he said quietly.

"If she lifts something that's too heavy for a woman to carry, and she does her back in, then you're both invalids! How can you run a business then?"

John's tone rose. "I'm not an invalid, sir, and I would never put her in danger!"

"Did you afford the same courtesy to your first wife?"

"I didn't kill her."

"That's not what I'm asking. There must have been some reason why the marriage went sour. I'm just wondering what it was."

John cleared his throat. He'd never been asked that question so directly before. Hell, he'd never been asked that question before. "There were many reasons," he said. "On both sides."

"Faults on both sides, you say? What were your faults?"

John froze like an animal in the headlights. They hadn't told Ida about his previous prison sentence or his alcoholism. And she had been the supportive one.

"Well?" Pete's eyebrows were still raised in curiosity, but they were showing signs of descending into a frown very soon. John had to give him an answer.

If Mr Smith found out… well, he'd get even more angry, but if they lost Ida… No, Anna needed her mother's support and _Anna_ had decided not to tell her. Anna knew them, she knew how they'd react, and she'd decided not to tell them. That meant she knew that they'd react badly. John hung his head.

"I'm asking because if there is some quality about you that makes you a bad husband, then I will stop at nothing to get you _away_ from my daughter."

"No, Anna's different."

"She's different, is she? That's what they all say."

"No, I mean it, they…Anna's the polar opposite of Vera! And so is my regard for her. I love Anna. And she loves me, we look after each other, it_ works_. It couldn't be more different than my marriage to Vera."

"So you didn't look after this Vera, then?"

John looked at his hands. "No. I didn't."

"Did you beat her?"

"No! No, we just… We fought, we weren't suited, we didn't care for each other – it was a disaster. And I thought that that was what marriage was, I thought it was more trouble than it was worth, that I was better off on my own. That's why I never sought a divorce when the marriage actually ended. The actual married relationship ended ten years ago, but I never sought a divorce then because I thought I'd never need one. She was gone, good riddance, and I thought I'd never have to even think about marriage ever again! And then I met Anna. She changed my life, she changed everything…"

Pete simply stared at him, his face unreactive.

"Look, I…I know there are a hundred reasons why a man like me should not be with a woman like Anna."

"We haven't even got onto the part about you being in prison yet."

"I know."

"Even if you didn't do it, and I'm not saying I believe you that you didn't do it, but even if you didn't, you must have done something to be suspected. You have to be a certain kind of person to be suspected of murder; usually a violent one!"

"Mr Smith, I swear to you on my mother's grave, I would never touch a hair on Anna's head."

"Your mother? How do I know you were good to her?"

"You don't! All I can give you is my word, it's up to you whether or not you believe me, all I can do is swear to you that I love Anna more than life itself and I would never _ever_ hurt her. As to whether I'm suitable for her, well no, I'm not, of course I'm not. No-one knows that more than me, and no-one has wondered about it more than I have. But surely the thing that weighs the most, the thing that's more important than anything else here, is her choice."

Pete nodded. "I know she loves you. I just think that if you love her you should push her away."

"I did. So many times."

Pete frowned. "Are you saying she pursued you?"

"You could call it that."

"Are you calling her a slut?"

"NO! No, she – she's the complete opposite of _that_, she just…she's honest. When she feels something, she says it. And when I feel the same way, how could I say no?"

"I'm not saying it'd be easy. But it's the best thing for her."

"Are you trying to convince me to divorce her?"

Pete leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. "I'm not sure what I'm trying to do, I just want answers."

"After all Anna has done for me; she waited seven years for me, patiently, never once judging me or becoming frustrated; she has defended me, fought for me in so many ways; she has never once lost faith in me; she takes care of me; she supports me; she unfailingly, unconditionally loves me; she married me even though she knew I would be thrown in here; she spends her evenings reading law books so she can understand what's happening to me; she spends her entire weekly time off visiting me; she writes me three letters a week; and after all that, you think I should repay her dedication and her kindness, by divorcing her?"

Pete took a breath, and frowned. "No," he conceded.

"Good. Because let me tell you, as she has fought for me, _I will fight for her_. I will not let her down, and I will _not_ let her go."

John stared at his father-in-law, not allowing him to break his gaze. He breathed in and out, deeply. Pete did the same, still squaring him up, still preparing for round two, but he found himself essentially speechless.

"So I'm afraid you're stuck with me," John declared. "I do not ask for your approval or even your consideration, and if I was you, I wouldn't like me either, but there is one thing I must request."

Pete raised an eyebrow, half offended, half curious.

"Please, for Anna's sake, could you pretend to accept me? She doesn't need to know what you really think. She's suffered enough. And just as I may never change your opinion of me, neither will you change hers. If you try, you'll only upset her, so please…please let her be. And please believe me when I tell you that she knows what she's doing."

"I don't want to upset her. I want…to help her, she's…I've never seen her like this before! It breaks my heart."

John nodded. "Mine too."

"I can't help her, I- "

"Yes you can."

"How?"

"Just support her. She'd feel so much better if you did."

"That would help?"

"Just knowing that you're behind her would help so much. It doesn't matter if you really are or not, just…just give her your support, be her crutch to lean on. You don't have to give me anything."

"Yeah, well, she's not talking to me anyway."

"You could apologise."

Pete's expression had softened slightly, but upon hearing this it blackened again.

"I don't mean for what you said," John added hastily. "I mean, I don't know what you did say, but if you haven't changed your mind then obviously you can't apologise for that, but I think…maybe the way you said it upset her. You could apologise for the way it made her feel. You didn't mean to upset her, did you?"

"I'm not afraid of tough love."

"That's not what she needs right now. She needs, just…love. And support."

"Well, I'm not much of a one for writing, I can't…I'm a man of few words, I don't…"

"You could go and see her."

Pete shrugged non-commitally. "You just said she spends all her time off here."

"Her half-day off, yes, but she goes to the village every Wednesday to run errands for the house. She goes in just after lunch, at about 12:30, one o'clock."

"You know her movements very well."

"I know her well. She's my wife."

Pete grunted. "You think I should just show up, then?"

"I could write to tell her you're coming if you wish."

"No, I don't want you putting your spin on it."

"I'll tell her to listen to you."

"Don't tell her what to do. I'll do it meself."

John couldn't help smiling at the irony of what Pete just said.

"How am I going to get her to listen to me, though?"

Pete looked up suddenly, and John had to look down to hide his smile. "She's a very reasonable woman, Mr Smith."

"I know, I'll get her a present, what does she like?"

John hid his smile no longer.

"Come on, this is what you're supposed to know, isn't it?"

"Well, I do, but maybe it'd be better to get her something that means something to the two of you - something that reminds her of her childhood, perhaps."

"Liquorice allsorts. They were the latest thing, when she were a kid, and she loved them."

John laughed. "She still does. That sounds perfect."

"Alright, listen, there's one thing I have to know."

"Certainly."

"If they find you guilty, will you be executed?"

John looked down. The thought chilled him. "According to the law, the punishment for premeditated murder is execution."

"Was it premeditated?"

"I…I didn't commit murder, I…"

"Yeah yeah, are they accusing you of premeditated murder?"

"Yes, but...obviously my lawyer is arguing against that."

"See my question is, if you're found guilty but you're not executed, say you're sentenced to life in prison or some horribly large number of years behind bars, what would Anna do then?"

"Knowing Anna, I believe she would fight for an appeal of the conviction."

"And if she can't?"

John sighed. "If… If we'd tried our hardest, and the lawyers had tried their hardest, and we'd looked over everything and there was no new evidence and no special circumstances – if there was no hope… If there was no hope that I would ever be free, I'd take myself off."

"Really?"

"I would not tie Anna to a life of prison visits every week and nothing more." John shook his head. "I'd rather die."

"Have you thought about this before?"

"Yes. I've thought about every possibility, and planned what I would do, what is best for Anna. I wouldn't have married her if I didn't have a plan for what I can do for her in all circumstances. If it comes to pass that the best thing for her is for me to die, than I will gladly do it."

Pete nodded, noticeably impressed.

"Don't tell her that."

"No, no."

"You may think me selfish for marrying Anna despite knowing that I would be incarcerated – well, I knew there was about an eighty percent change I would be, anyway. You may think that I selfishly wanted to take what I could while I was still able, or that I simply wanted someone nice to visit me or defend me under these circumstances – you may think that through the bond of marriage I wanted to oblige her to do so. That is not the case. I wanted to marry her, desperately, had done for years and had been waiting to do so, but I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been convinced that it was the best thing for her. And it is, because she feels the same. She's told me that I'm the only one who can make her happy, and I want to do it, and I should do it if I'm the only one who can! But in the shadow of the impending incarceration, she said to me, "If they take you and I am not your wife, I will have no rights." She would be left at the side somewhere, in the same amount of pain as she is now, but with no regular visiting rights accepted by either the house or the authorities; no right to be kept informed about what is happening – if they move me, if the trial date changes, if I become ill – as my wife, she has to be kept informed of that, but if she wasn't, she wouldn't be.

"The other thing is how she is viewed by society – a wife is respected, no matter what the husband is accused of, the wife is respected - but if she was…well, she was never my mistress, but when this goes to trial and the story appears in the papers, it would look like she was, if she wasn't my wife. I won't let her be disrespected like that – and it would be my fault if that happened, I put her in that situation, I jumped the gun and asked her to marry me when I wasn't free, and I shouldn't have done that, I should have waited, but I didn't and…we were engaged and everybody knew, so it was my duty to make good on my promise before it was too late. I had to make an honest woman out of her, and an honest man out of myself.

"And the final thing is the money. She's my next of kin now, if I die it's hers, and no-one will question it. And the house. She can sell it, or she can rent it out for a steady income. She'll want for nothing, I promise you."


	10. Chapter 10

"Where on earth have you been?" Ida practically screeched as she watched her husband guide the trap into the barnyard, her eyebrows raised high.

Janet stood behind her doing much the same thing.

"Oh, give him a break," said Peter, disappearing inside the big house.

Pete the elder jumped down from the trap and walked into the small house without a word.

"Did you hear me?" said Ida, rushing after him. "I said, where have you been?"

"Getting to know our new son-in-law," her husband replied, removing his coat and hat and hanging them on the hook.

"Against Anna's express wishes!"

"Last time I checked, daughters don't tell their fathers what to do."

"Wives do!"

Pete frowned at her as he sank into his chair. "It was fine. She only told me not to go there because she wanted to molly coddle him, thought I'd be too hard on him. Well he's a man, he can handle it."

Ida sat down on the settee. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What did you think of him?"

Pete frowned thoughtfully. "Well…Courting a pretty young woman while you're married to somebody else is not on, that's not on at all. But he said that, he admitted he did the wrong thing. And he said that she was never his mistress."

"No, love, Anna wouldn't do that."

"She would, she said so, remember?"

Ida gritted her teeth. She'd tried to forget that.

"He said he would only do what was best for her, and I suppose all I can do is take him at his word. It's not as if I have a choice."

"You'll accept him?"

"I have to, to keep the peace with Anna! I wouldn't if he was a blaggard, though, if he was bad for her I would _stop_ this, but…"

"But he's not, is he? He's a nice man."

"I wouldn't let her have any less."

...

Anna rushed from shop to shop, enjoying the purpose and the freedom and the fresh air. Well, she told herself that she was enjoying the freedom from people's pitying looks, but she got plenty of those in the village too. She'd always enjoyed fresh air and walking around the village and the estate, but these days she was usually too pre-occupied to appreciate it. Still, quite a few of the staff had given her errands to run, and she was enjoying the purpose.

Emerging from the tiny chemist, she was finally done, but she didn't want to go back to the house just yet. She'd planned to take a detour via the lake, as she did whenever she felt she needed time alone for her thoughts, but, feeling guilty and not wanting anyone to find out that she was slacking off, she walked towards the lake with the same purpose as she had walked to the shops, as if she had important business there.

As she walked through the small tree-lined park next to the main street, a voice stopped her.

"Hello, Anna."

Anna turned and looked at the man standing by the tree she had just passed. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Her tone was not accusatory, just anxious. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes, yes," her father replied. "I just wanted to see you."

"Why?"

"Actually, your husband sent me."

Anna's eyes widened in horror. "What have you been-"

"It's alright, it's alright, I was pleasantly surprised!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sorry for what I said to you. I just…I just didn't understand."

Anna rustled her bags anxiously, not sure what to think of this. Surprise was her foremost thought. Her father never apologised. "Do you understand now?" she asked.

"Somewhat."

Anna nodded, but her expression was still one of incredulity.

"I just don't want you to suffer, love. I thought I'd try to get you out of it."

"You can't."

"I know."

"Wait, get me out of the marriage or get me out of the suffering? Because the marriage is not what's causing the suffering, believe me."

"I know. I made a mistake there. I'm sorry."

"Good."

"I just want to help."

"Well, thankyou, but…" Anna sighed, then frowned. "What did you say to John, were you hard on him?"

"No harder than I was on you. He held up very well, I thought."

"Held up? What did you say to him, did you interrogate him?"

"Only what I would do to any man who wants to marry my daughter – if you'd ever introduced him to me beforehand, I'd have done exactly the same thing. Got to make sure he's right for you."

"And?"

"And he held up pretty well. His heart's in the right place, anyway."

Anna knew that for her father, that was a compliment, so she left it at that.

"I got you something, here." Pete pulled a small paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to Anna.

She opened it, and smiled. "Liquorice allsorts. Thankyou."

"Are they still your favourite?"

"One of them." She popped one into her mouth. "Ooh, they're not bad. Do you want one?" She held the bag out to him.

Pete grinned, and took one. "Memories, eh?"

"Indeed."

They turned and began to walk back into the village. Anna was silently eating her sweets. Pete found he didn't know what to say next.

"Would you…?" he faltered.

"Would I what?"

"Would you like to have tea with me? Do you have time?"

Anna looked at the clock above the train station. It was earlier than she thought. "Yes, I do," she said.

...

They stepped into the small tea shop next to the station. Pete pulled out all the stops, ordering Anna the most elaborate cake in the shop.

"Dad, you shouldn't have!" Anna scolded. "How am I going to eat all that?"

"Try," Pete replied. "I don't get many chances to spoil a pretty young girl these days, it's my pleasure."

"What about Eileen?"

"She's too young for cream cakes. If you give it to them when they're too young, they make a mess."

Anna laughed. "What about Janet?"

Pete thought for a moment. "I may have bought Janet a cream cake once. I can't quite remember."

"You can't remember?"

"I think I did. You'll have to ask her."

"I do wish I could see you all more often."

"So your John said…He said he'd like to buy a hotel, for you both to run."

Anna smiled, and nodded.

"Well, if you do, you should…you should buy one close to us."

"That would be good!"

"The thing is, he… The thing with his leg, he can't really lift things, can he?"

"He's strong. Very strong. He can move things around, it's only when that necessitates putting weight on his bad leg that it's a problem."

"Yeah, well, you need both legs to lift a heavy thing. Like a beer barrel, for example."

"Well, I could help him."

"No you couldn't, Anna, a firkin barrel is nine gallons!"

"We could lift it together. He has the strength, I have the sturdy legs!"

"Well, if you buy a pub close to us, I'll help you."

Anna grinned.

"So you…I mean, you've been…"

"Been what?"

Pete shook his head.

Anna smiled. "You can ask me whatever you like, Dad."

"No, no. It's none of my business."

"Did you want to ask me a question about John?"

Pete shook his head again, and then turned to look out the window.

"He was my friend for a long time."

Pete's head turned back. "Your friend?"

"Yes. A good friend. I realised fairly early on that I'd fallen in love with him, and I told him so, but there wasn't really anything we could do… He was honest with me, I knew…about his wife and everything."

"This is all very unconventional."

Anna chuckled. "Yes! It is! But we didn't do anything wrong."

"He said you…" Pete trailed off, and frowned again.

"I what?"

"I was…a bit surprised, that's all."

"John said I what?"

"He said he tried to push you away, and you…"

Anna smiled. "I pursued him? Yes, I did."

Pete's eyes were roaming all around the room, looking everywhere but at his daughter.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"Just hadn't pictured you doing that, that's all."

"I should hope not!"

"Did you mean what you said about…"

"About what?"

"About…" Pete leaned closer, lowering his voice. "…_living in sin_."

"I was prepared to do that if that's what it took. We already had all other elements of a married relationship – love, trust, shared decisions, a shared life, a shared future – we had everything except the bit of paper saying that we were married. I thought it wouldn't be too big a step to live together as man and wife, just without the bit of paper. I didn't think it would be wrong, when we had everything else. It would have been a last resort, but I was prepared and willing to do it."

Pete had become very interested in the pattern on the tablecloth. All Anna could see was the top of his head. She decided to continue.

"John disagreed. Said he wouldn't do that to me, said it wasn't right. I offered it to him repeatedly, but he wouldn't accept it."

"Repeatedly?"

"Yes, I remember the first time I said it, that was in 1916…then I said it again in 1917…and a few times last year. Vera had finally destroyed the divorce proceedings, the judge had thrown it out of court, and John was devastated, he thought it meant we couldn't be together, and I said, 'No, it doesn't mean that, nothing will stop me being with you.' I said we didn't need the bit of paper, but he said no. He said he would not disrespect me." Anna sighed, remembering the incredulity she'd felt when she'd heard those words, and the silent vow she'd make to keep working on him until he'd agreed. But she wouldn't tell her father that.

Pete was nodding, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"So you see, Dad, you've got nothing to worry about. My husband is a very honourable, respectable, and selfless man. Just the sort you like."

"Do you think he'll get off?"

Anna's breath caught in her throat, just slightly. "I'd rather you didn't phrase it like that. But yes. I'm sure he will."

"If he doesn't… I'm here for you, alright?"


	11. epilogue part I

**Thankyou for your reviews, I do really appreciate them! Some people asked for an epilogue to this story, so here it is **

**Recently I was watching an episode of QI where they said that up until WWI, it was a requirement of the British army that every single soldier had a moustache. Now I'm trying to imagine Bates with a moustache in Africa.**

...

"It's so good to see you!" Anna's mother swept her into a crushing hug the moment she stepped down onto the platform. "Oh, I'm so happy for you, thankyou for coming, sweetheart!"

"Of course we came, Mum," said Anna, as Ida turned to John with a grin.

"Come here, love. Welcome." John received a similar hug, which did a lot to calm his nerves. He'd been out of prison for almost two weeks now, and, to his and Anna's interminable joy, they'd finally received their cottage, along with four days off. The second she'd received Anna's letter saying that John would be released, Ida had composed a reply stating strongly that Anna must bring John to the farm, that she'd love to show him around and introduce him to everyone, and that this really must be done as soon as possible. Anna could hardly say no. She wanted to spend most of the four days in the cottage with her husband, but one night on the farm would be a very good thing. She had hoped to take John there years before, after all.

Ida was chatting ten to the dozen on the ride from the station to the farm. John held Anna's hand as he looked out over the fields. It was a pretty place, he thought. How could it not be; it had produced Anna.

"There it is, John," said Ida, raising her voice against the breeze. She was gesturing towards a small cluster of buildings that had just come into view a few hundred metres ahead. "This one was our fallow field this year." She pointed to the paddock immediately to their left, which was filled with a smattering of wild flowers.

John raised his eyebrows in surprise. "All this is yours?"

"Well, we manage it. Here's the working fields now, look. We'll be harvesting any day now."

John gazed around, very impressed at the size and productivity of the farm. He realised Anna was staring at him. "What?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she replied, grinning.

John found Ida's commentary on the fields they were passing a welcome distraction from his gut wrenching nervousness. It seemed to make him feel better. Looking at this place seemed to make him feel…excited. Anything to do with Anna was exciting. Of course he was excited.

The trap pulled up in the barnyard, to the sound of shrieking children and a barking dog. Ida and Anna alighted quickly, Anna sweeping the eldest boy into a hug, then quickly becoming surrounded by the other excited children. John climbed down more carefully, eyeing the adults warily. He saw the younger man's eyes dart to his cane. He must be Anna's brother. His wife stood beside him. She was holding out her hand. John accepted it gratefully.

He became aware that Ida was beside him making eager introductions. He'd already forgotten the name of the woman whose hand he'd just shaken. But he knew that Anna's elder brother's name was Peter. Peter smiled as he shook John's hand. He had kind eyes, like Anna's. John was relieved. He'd noticed the cane, but didn't seem to be judging him for it.

The man standing behind him looked like he was, though. He stood a few paces back, surveying the scene, his expression guarded. John stepped towards him and extended his hand.

"Mr Smith."

"John." After a moment's pause, Mr Smith took his son-in-law's offered hand.

"Thankyou for having me, sir." John turned back to Ida. "Thankyou for the invitation."

"Come on, come and meet your Uncle John," came Anna's voice as she stepped back towards them, a trail of children following her.

John smiled. He'd never been anyone's uncle before. The feeling of excitement came back to replace the feeling of nervousness. He was introduced individually to Alec, Eileen, James, Alice and Mark. Anna shoved five lollipops into his hand to give to each of them. The younger ones immediately lost interest in John, having eyes only for the lollipops, but Alec uttered a polite, "Thankyou, Uncle John."

"Oh, at least one of them's polite," grunted his exasperated mother. "Children! What do you say? Uncle John gave you a lollipop, what do you say?"

...

Anna's sister, Elise, and her husband and children joined them just after lunch, much to Anna's surprised delight.

"We decided to make a proper family reunion of it," explained Ida. "Alan and Bonnie will be here tomorrow."

"Where will they sleep?" asked Alec.

"They'll just be here for the day. They don't live as far away as the girls do." Ida turned to Anna and Elise, scowling playfully.

"What, Mum?" asked Elise, who had been busy talking to John.

"Brought a side of beef for you, Janet," announced Elise's husband Paul, stepping across the crowded kitchen with a large basket in his hands.

"Oh, thankyou! That'll be perfect for the roast tomorrow."

"We farm cattle," Elise explained to John.

"Oh, I see," he replied, sighing with relief that he hadn't been expected to bring a large hunk of meat himself. He'd brought small gifts for the women and children, but with Anna's money, as he still wasn't working. He'd promised to pay her back, and she'd protested that the rent money was his anyway.

"Well, technically not," he'd replied. "I believe that house is owned by a Mrs Anna Bates."

"Don't be silly," she shooshed him. "It's ours."

All Anna's family seemed to think that John was working, though, as they asked him plenty of questions about it. He decided not to correct them. He'd be working soon, anyway - Lord Grantham wouldn't have given him a cottage if he didn't intend to keep him on. Still, he let Anna's family labour under the impression that he was a working man who could support his wife, rather than the other way around.

He could feel Mr Smith's eyes on him all day.

Dinner was a raucous affair, with all eight of the adults and Alec crushed around the kitchen table in the big house, which was a large table, but was feeling the strain nonetheless. Six of the younger children were squashed around two smaller tables in the corners of the room, and the toddler, Mark, had mercifully been put to bed.

After Janet had given everyone a generous helping and sat down next to her husband at the end of the table, she looked to the other end and noticed that the head of the table was empty.

"Where's Dad gone?" she asked.

"He said something like, 'This calls for something special'," said Elise. "With a tear in his eye, you know what he's like."

"Where's he gone, then?"

"The wine cellar," Ida explained.

"What wine cellar?"

"Oh, you know, he keeps bits and bobs for a rainy day under the house."

"I'd better get out some nice glasses, then. I knew I'd forgotten something – sorry, everyone. I put squash on the table, but that's a bit boring." Janet got up and began rifling through one of the cupboards.

Anna looked at John, who was staring at his plate, not reacting. She jumped up and went over to Janet.

"Have you got something else, some ginger beer or something? Only, John doesn't drink."

"And neither does Alec." Janet grinned. "Yes, I surely do. It's under the sink, I think, have a look."

Anna looked, and found a large stone bottle of ginger beer by the wall, under the sink. It was very heavy, so Paul helped her lift it. She quickly poured a glass for Alec and one for John, and carried them over to the table just as her father re-emerged holding two bottles of wine aloft.

"Here we are," he declared proudly. "I've been keeping these for a special occasion, and now we've got one." He began moving around the table pouring the wine into the glasses Janet had set out.

"Can we start eating yet, Mum?" asked Alec.

"No, not until everyone's ready. You know the rule."

"But the others are!"

"They're at a different table, Alec. The rule is no-one starts eating until everyone at your table is seated."

Alec jumped up. "Can I help you with the wine, Grandpa?"

The adults chuckled as Pete Snr directed him to pour the glasses on the other side of the table. "Don't be takin' any for yerself, mind, you're too young."

"I know, I don't want any anyway. It smells awful."

Arriving at John's seat, Pete started when he saw that John's glass was already full. "Err, Janet, have you got another-"

"It's alright, Mr Smith, I don't drink," said John, calmly meeting his eye.

"You don't drink?" Pete frowned.

"No, so Janet's given me some ginger beer. But I do really appreciate the gesture, thankyou."

"I'll have some, Dad," said Anna.

Pete slowly stepped to his daughter's side, his wary eyes still on John, who had recommenced studying his plate.

"Whoah, that's enough," Anna protested. "Don't spill it!"

Alec having poured everyone else's glasses, Pete walked back to his seat. Before sitting down, he shook himself, gave a forced smile and raised his glass, looking at everyone around the table. "I'd like to make a toast to my two lovely daughters, one of them as looking contented as she normally does and the other one looking absolutely over the moon – you look like you've been locked in a sweet shop, Anna!" He smiled, and Anna blushed. "Which makes me over the moon too, it's very good to see you happy, love. So, to Elise and Anna, and also to Paul and John, who aren't in my bad books at the moment, and Janet, who's never in my bad books, and Peter, who sometimes isn't. And to all the little bairns, too." He raised his glass, and everyone followed.

"What about me?" asked Ida. "Are you going to toast everyone but me?"

"And you too, love!" Pete chuckled. "To family! The most important thing."

"To family!" everyone raised their glasses and drank.

"Welcome to the family," Ida whispered to John, patting him on the shoulder.

...

"Can I have a word with you, John?" said Pete quietly, taking advantage of the fact that Eileen had convinced Anna to play snap with her in the corner.

"Certainly," John replied.

"This way."

Pete abruptly walked out the back door. Grabbing his cane from the back of his chair, John followed. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness outside, he spotted his father-in-law walking slowly over to the small house, glancing behind himself to make sure John was following. He led him to the small porch out the back. There were two chairs sitting on the porch, but Pete didn't take one, so neither did John.

Pete leaned against one of the wooden posts supporting the porch, and fixed John with a stare. "I'm gonna ask you one question," he said.

"Alright."

"One question, and I want an honest answer. And I'll know if you're lyin'."

John nodded.

"Are you an alcoholic?"

John's eyes widened. He couldn't break Pete's gaze. Several seconds passed. All he could do was nod dumbly. "Yes," he said softly.

Pete's torso crumpled in the manner of one who has just received very bad news. His right hand waved to the right, and then his left pointed back to the big house. "Does she know?"

"Yes. I wouldn't keep that from her."

Gritting his teeth, Pete leaned heavily against the post, his arms crossed.

"I haven't touched a drop in eleven years. And I never will again. You have my word."

"Your word? The word of a drunk?"

"I'm not a drunk, sir. I was, but I'm not now."

"One little sip of that wine and you'll teeter back over the abyss. That's why you turned it down, isn't it?"

"No. There was a time when that was the case, but now… no. Now I don't drink because I have absolutely no desire to do so."

"You can say that until you're blue in the face, but I know better. This means that I can never trust you." Pete's expression hardened. "And if you had been honest with me before, if you had had the courtesy to ask my permission for my daughter's hand, there is no way I would have given it."

John was silent. He felt that happy bubble he had been living in, the first bubble of happiness he had ever been privileged to be in, shatter into smithereens.

"You weren't honest with my wife either. She's been really looking forward to you coming here. I don't know why, but she thinks you're lovely. Shall I shatter her illusions?"

John swallowed. "That's up to you. But whatever you do, please don't involve Anna. "

...

Anna, deep in a game of snap, had become aware that John and her father were no longer in the room, but neither were Paul and Peter, so she thought that they were all together. So when Paul and Peter came back into the house alone, she was quite surprised.

"I can't believe the size of it," Paul was saying.

"I know," Peter replied. "We get it next week."

"What are you getting next week?" asked Elise.

"Combine harvester."

"What? You're joking."

"I know, amazing, isn't it?" Peter grinned.

Finishing her game, Anna stood up and moved towards Peter. "Where are Dad and John?" she asked. "Weren't they with you?"

"No," her brother replied.

"Where did they go, then?"

"It's alright, love," said her mother, placing a pot of tea on the table. "Best leave your father be."

"Why?"

"Oh, is he still doing that?" said Paul. "Ha, he never changes." He grinned.

"Doing what, what do you mean?"

"He's checking John out, isn't he? He had his eyes on him all through dinner – it's exactly what he did to me when I was courting Elise. He's probably taking him outside to give him a pop quiz on morality and how best to care for a wife in the modern world."

"You passed the test, though, didn't you love," said Elise, patting her husband on the arm.

"Yeah, _eventually_. When he'd run out of hoops for me to jump through."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Yes it was! I wouldn't worry, though, Anna, he'll get over it sooner or later."

But Anna was gone.

...

John saw her first. He was facing the big house, his face lit up by its light. Pete was facing the other way, in the shadows. He was still talking, but he saw John's eyes flick to something behind him, a haunted look on his face.

"What are you -?" he began, spinning around to see his daughter walking towards them.

"Hello," she said. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, love, go back inside."

"I will not," said Anna defiantly, stepping onto the porch and extending her arm towards John, ready to wrap it around his waist.

He caught her shoulder, holding her back. "It's fine, Anna, do as he says." His voice was raw.

"What are you talking about?" She turned to her father, trying to affect an air of nonchalance.

"It doesn't concern you, Anna," said Pete. "Don't worry about it."

"Well, if it concerns John, it probably does concern me. So I'm not going anywhere."

"In that case, Mr Smith," said John, his hand still on Anna's shoulder, "would you mind if we continued this discussion another time? That is, if you still have things you wish to say."

Pete glared at him for a long moment, obviously unnerved by the physical contact between John and Anna. "No, I'm done," he finally grunted, turning and walking away.

John watched him go, waiting until the sound of his angry footfalls had receded before he turned to Anna. Her eyes pierced his, trying to devine was going on behind his calm exterior.

John's face relaxed suddenly, and he pulled her into an embrace, stroking her hair and holding her tight.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"Yep."

"What did he say?"

John found that he could say no more, he could only hold her tightly until his heart rate calmed and his thoughts swam into focus. After some minutes, he pulled back and looked into her eyes, his fingers still stroking her hair.

"You know that I would never hurt you, right?"

Anna's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I would never, I – I'll stay strong for you, I'll take care of you."

"I know."

"I'll never treat you badly, I'd never -"

"I know. I know." Anna stroked his cheek. "God, what did he say to you?"


	12. epilogue part II

"Well, that was a lovely evening!" declared Ida as she stepped into the bedroom.

Pete sat on the bed, staring straight ahead, undoing his shirt buttons at a rate of knots.

"For everyone except for you, it seems. Oh well, your loss." She moved over to her dressing table and began undressing.

Finishing his unbuttoning, Pete sat still. His wife eyed him through the mirror. "Are you going to tell me about it?" she asked.

Recovering his movement, Pete ripped off his shirt in a tangled flourish, then set to work on the buttons of his trousers.

"Peter! Hello! You're going to rip those open!"

"It's fine, Ida," he said, dropping his trousers and jumping into bed. "Don't you worry about it."

"Well I don't know what you're worried about, but I'm worried about you! We've just had a wonderful night with three of our children, three in-laws and eight grandchildren, and you couldn't enjoy yourself – why not?"

Pete said nothing.

"Because you're worrying about things that don't need worrying about, that's why not! Are any of us dying, is the farm going bankrupt, is one of the children missing? I don't think so, so why worry?"

"If I told you what I discovered tonight, I think you would worry."

"Would I? How do you know?"

"Because I'm a parent too."

"Oh, the kids are all fine, love! They're all married and happy! Isn't that exactly what we always wanted?"

"Happy for how long?"

"Oh, honestly."

"He's a bloody drunk!"

"What?"

"John's a…He's a bloody drunk."

"No he isn't, he didn't drink anything tonight."

"Yeah, because if he had done, he would've fallen off the wagon!"

"Is this your paranoid speculation, or is it -"

"No it is not, I asked him and he admitted it."

Somewhat shocked, Ida nodded. "I see."

"Yeah."

"Well, he's obviously fine now, but it's been a problem for him in the past, has it? Does Anna know about it?"

"Yes, she…oh God…" Pete screwed up his eyes and banged the headboard angrily.

"What?"

"Bastard!"

"Language!"

"This is what killed his first marriage! I'll bet it is!"

"Oh here we go, you're into speculation mode again."

"It is!"

"How do you know?"

"Oh God, it definitely was, because last time I met him he said that that marriage ended ten years earlier, and that was nearly a year ago now, so now it's eleven years, and tonight, he said to me, 'I haven't touched a drop in eleven years'! Oh, Jesus Christ!" He rolled around on the pillow, his eyes scrunched shut.

"Peter. Stop it." Ida grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her. He continued to groan. "Peter. Look at me."

With a last groan, Pete opened his eyes.

"Whatever happened eleven years ago is none of our business."

"Yes it is, because now he's gonna drag Anna along the same path!"

"No he is not. Remember Cyril?"

"Yes, I do remember Cyril, that's exactly the problem!"

"Cyril was a good man."

"He ruined Betty's life!"

"Betty was fine, she started again."

"You couldn't trust him. You could never ever trust him."

"You could love him, though. He was a good man, it wasn't his fault."

"He could never get off it."

"No, he couldn't. But he tried. He didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"Look, I'm not saying that John's a bad man. But if he can't control himself, then -"

"I think he's proven that he can! Eleven years! Cyril never managed that."

"Cyril never managed eleven minutes without it."

"So John is a stronger man than Cyril. Yes?"

"Strong for how long?"

"You can tell he's strong, it's one of the most fundamental things about him! You can see that he's suffered, greatly, and he's got through it. You can see it in his eyes. And eleven years is enough, I think. If he's made it that far, I don't think he's going back. Would you want to regress by eleven years?"

"They can't control it, that's the point."

"I think he can. To get this far, he can. And look at the way he looks at Anna, he's obviously blissfully happy with her! And what reason does a blissfully happy man have to drink, hmm?"

...

John and Anna slid into the hard bed in the disused guest room at the back of her parents' house. It was uncomfortable, but at least it was a double bed. Anna hadn't been sure they would be given that.

Shifting herself into as comfortable a position as she could manage, she turned to face John. He had been quiet all evening, and, much as he tried to hide his anxiety, to Anna it was still plain to see.

He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I wish you'd tell me what he said to you."

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

"No, he…he's just worried, that's all."

"What about?"

John sighed. "He found out the reason I don't drink."

"Oh, is that all?"

"Is that all? That is very, very worrying for him."

"Then he's worrying for no reason! I'll talk to him in the morning."

"No, don't. Please don't."

"Why not?"

"Because the whole reason he is doing this is to take care of you. To make sure that you're alright, and that you're loved and happy. So if you get angry and upset, that completely takes the point out of it."

"Well, my getting upset is not avoidable if he's going to have so little faith in you. Doesn't it make you angry?"

"No."

"No?"

"He's just doing his job as your father. He's a very good father, I'm really impressed that…" John sighed. "A lot of fathers wouldn't."

"So you're saying that I should be grateful?"

"I am. I'm grateful every day that your family treats you well."

"Yes, and they should treat you well too!"

"He doesn't even know me. Maybe when he does, he'll think differently, but for now, all he is doing is looking out for you, and there is nothing wrong with that.

Anna rolled onto her back, and sighed. "I suppose so."

"There's no 'suppose' about it, I…the last time I saw him, when I was in prison. He seemed to listen to me, but then he just got up and left, and at first I felt guilt-stricken and utterly unworthy, that I'd done the wrong thing by him and by you, but then I realised that…" He looked her in the eye. "…I didn't. Sometimes I've got it wrong, but I've always tried to do the best thing by you, and I always will. I know that, and you know that. Your father doesn't , but that's OK. He doesn't know me, so how could he? All wants to do is to make sure that you're properly cared for, and that's wonderful. And it's no less than you deserve."

"Why did you look so worried earlier, then? If you're so stoical about it."

"Because I still have, and I always will have, niggling doubts about myself. But you make them go away." He smiled.

Anna smiled back, and snuggled into his arms. He kissed her hair and stroked it.

"What did you mean before, when you said, 'A lot of fathers wouldn't'? Were you talking about your father?"

"Well, my father didn't care about much, but that's not what I was thinking of."

"What were you thinking of?"

"Well…I probably shouldn't mention this, but Vera…she was the way she was for a reason, you know, she…had a very unhappy childhood."

"Really?"

"Her father abused her, in many ways. Some of them unspeakable. She didn't really speak of it, but I picked it up from various sources. And the funny thing is, when I saw your father in the prison, we had a conversation and then he got up and walked away, and I hung my head, I felt completely awful initially, but then I thought, 'Hang on, this is a new feeling. I've never experienced this…parental disapproval before.' And then I thought, well, of course I haven't, because Vera's father couldn't have cared less about her. But you…God, if anyone did that to you, I would string them up. I'd castrate them with my bare hands. But your father is a good man, and he loves you and he looks out for you, and I am so grateful for that. I'm so grateful."

...

After breakfast, Anna's younger brother Alan arrived with his wife Bonnie. He was a pallid-looking man with a big smile, who shook John's hand enthusiastically. Anna expressed a desire to take John to the river, and Alan, Bonnie, Pete, Elise and most of the children joined them. Pete's eyes were still on John, but he only smiled back. Alec and Alan tried to teach him how to skip stones. He failed.

"You need to bend down further, Uncle John, so the stone can be at the same angle as the water," Alec explained.

John bent down as far as he could, ending up kneeling on the river bank, but the stone still plopped straight to the bottom of the river. "Right, I give up!" he declared. Grounding his cane between two large stones, John pulled himself to his feet with a groan.

"I can't do it as well as I used to either," said Alan with a smile. He'd propped himself up on a tree root, and he pushed himself to his feet with a similar groan.

Eileen arrived with the news that lunch was ready, and the party began to make their way back up the river bank. John and Alan were at the back, and John appreciated that the younger man seemed to be matching his slow pace, but he soon realised that the reason was that Alan himself could not go any faster. Halfway up the riverbank, he began to cough. "Oh bugger," he gasped. He made two more steps, then fell to his knees.

"Are you alright?" asked John, rushing to his side.

"Chlorine gas," Alan spluttered. The coughing stopped, but his breath had become very faint.

"We're nearly at the top of the hill, I'll help you. Try to relax." Hooking his cane over a nearby tree branch, John took hold of it with his right hand, grabbed Alan's shoulder with his left, and pulled. Alan made two fumbling steps. John steadied himself on the hanging cane, and pulled again.

"That thing's strong, eh?" said Alan, before collapsing into another coughing fit.

Pete's panicked face appeared above the river bank. "Alan, are you alright?" He began scrambling towards his son.

Bonnie appeared a second later, holding a bottle of medicine aloft. "I'm sorry, darling, I shouldn't have left you!" she said, as Alan took a swig.

"It's alright," he panted. "I shouldn't have gone down there, but I just -"

"Shh shh, don't talk. Breathe deeply."

Elise, Anna and Eileen had appeared at the top of the riverbank. John waved them away.

"Is he alright?" asked Elise.

"Yes, he's fine," said John firmly. "We'll see you back at the house."

"Best not to stare," said Anna, moving away.

"I'm fine, really," said Alan softly. "There's only a couple of yards to go. If I can just get some air in my lungs…"

"Do you think you'll be alright on flat ground?" asked Pete. "Cos I can bring the horse around."

"No, flat ground's OK," Alan replied. "Just gotta get to it."

"Mr Smith, can you grab his left arm?" asked John. "I've got his right. We can pull him up there."

"Righto, out of the way, Bonnie," said Pete. "Are you ready, son? One, two, three!"

After two or three pulls from Pete and John, Alan fell onto the flat ground at the top of the riverbank, gasping. Pete rolled him onto his side. "There you go, lad, just breathe."

Bonnie knelt beside him, rubbing his back.

"Is this worse than it was, Bon?" asked Pete.

"He has good days and bad days," she replied.

"Should've known today would be a bad day," Alan muttered. "Always is when I wanna do something interesting." Taking one more deep breath, he pushed himself up onto his knees. Hooking their arms under his shoulders again, John and Pete pulled him to his feet, and he began to walk haltingly forward, taking another swig from the medicine bottle.

"Are you sure you don't want the horse?" Pete asked.

"Yep, I'm fine. Sorry about that, everyone!" He looked around the three of them. "We've only just met, mate!" he said to John, patting him on the back. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem."

"Thanks for shooing the others away too. Nothing feels worse than being a spectacle."

...

John enjoyed the roast beef lunch immensely, sitting next to a talkative Alan, with whom he was getting along very well. He could still feel Pete's eyes on him, and he noticed that Ida's had begun to follow him too. After the meal, she and Janet went outside to pick mulberries for dessert, and he decided to join them, mindful that it would soon be time to leave.

"Thankyou so much for your hospitality, ladies," he said, reaching up to pick the berries from the higher branches the women couldn't reach. "I really appreciate it."

"You're very welcome," said Janet. "We've had a lovely time too!"

Ida smiled. "You must come again."

"I'd love to."

"Watch out, you've blood all over your hands now," winked Janet. "The mulberry is the most gruesome of fruits."

"And the beetroot," added Ida.

"Well, that's a vegetable, Mum."

"I know, I know."

"Do you think that's enough?" The bowl was now piled high with purple berries.

"Yes, I think so."

"Right, I'll go and check that Eileen hasn't plastered cream all over the kitchen."

"Wasn't Elise going to whip it?" Ida asked.

"Yes," Janet replied. "But Eileen _will_ try to help her." She hurried back inside.

Suddenly finding himself alone with his mother-in-law, John froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. He managed a small smile, then stepped back towards the house.

"John, I…"

John turned back, his eyebrows raised belligerently. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, don't worry."

"You can ask me anything. I won't lie to you."

"Well…Pete told me something last night."

John nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kept it from you, I just didn't want to worry you. Because it's not a problem, it's not a part of my life any more at all. I didn't want you to worry unnecessarily."

Ida nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"Thankyou. It's alright."

John continued to look at her for a little while, not sure what else to say.

"This is a very personal question, but what caused it, exactly? What drove you to it?"

"Mainly the war."

"Ah, of course." Ida nodded, sadness in her eyes. "Wars ruin everything."

"It's not ruined. I thought my life was ruined at the time, but if I hadn't gone through all that, I wouldn't have met Anna." He smiled.

"Oh, yes. There's always hope."

"Exactly."

"I remembered something about you this morning. I don't know why it took me so long, I think because it's connected to some painful memories that I've tried to forget…but I did really appreciate it at the time. And now."

John's brow furrowed in sympathy, even though he didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"I lost my boy Mark in the war. Little Mark is named after him."

John nodded. He knew.

"And you were the one who told Anna that he didn't suffer. She told you what we had been told about it, which didn't make a whole lot of sense to us because we were hardly capable of logical thought at the time – I know I wasn't, anyway. But you made sense of it, and you explained to her that he didn't suffer. And she put it all into a letter to me and she said that you were in a war and you knew what soldiers' experiences were like, and that you were…relieved, I think she said, when she told you how he died."

John nodded. "I was."

"And you took the time to explain to her why, and she explained it to me, and I appreciated it so much. I can't tell you how much that helped." Ida placed a gentle hand on John's arm. "Thankyou."

John shrugged, smiling faintly. "I'm glad."

"I wish you could have met him. I think he would have liked you."

Tears pricked the back of John's eyes. She didn't know that, of course she didn't. But he appreciated her saying it all the same. "I wish I could have," he said huskily.

"When I read that letter, I didn't know who you were – well, Anna had mentioned you in previous letters, but only in passing, and I didn't know anything about you and I _certainly_ didn't know that you had designs on my daughter…"

John shifted awkwardly until he saw Ida smile. He relaxed.

"…But I felt very grateful that you had comforted her and that you had taken the time to explain something that she didn't understand. And I know you did it for her and not for me, but I really appreciated it too."

"Gran?" Alec's voice came from the back door. "Uncle John? Are you out here?"

"Yes, we are, love," called Ida, just as the boy came into view around the side of the house.

"Dessert's ready," he announced with a grin.

...

Men, women, children, chickens, dogs and a goat were all gathered in the barnyard to see off Anna, John, Alan and Bonnie. Elise, Paul and their children were going to stay another night. This had been offered to Anna and John, but they wanted to get home. Alan and Bonnie had promised to come back for next week's Sunday roast, as they only lived one stop along the train line.

John shook the hands of each of the men and Alec, and kissed the cheeks of each of the women, saying, "It was so nice to meet you," to most of them and, "Thankyou so much for your hospitality," to Peter, Janet and Ida. Pete Snr was last again, having hung back behind the others. John held out his hand to him.

Glancing toward Anna and Ida to make sure they were occupied with their own goodbyes, Pete took John's hand and leaned towards him. "I'm watching you," he whispered.

John nodded stiffly. "Please do," he said. "Thankyou for having me to stay. Once we have our cottage set up, you are most welcome to visit."

Pete nodded, a steely look in his eyes. "That'd be good."

"Can I take the reins, Mum?" asked Alan.

"I thought you might want to sit on the back, love. It's easier to get up there," said Ida gently.

"I can get up there, can't I, John?"

John was somewhat taken aback to be asked for his sanction, but he nodded. "I'm sure you can."

"Join me?" Alan climbed slowly onto the front seat of the trap, one step at a time.

John followed, also one step at a time.

"Well, so much for ladies first," said Bonnie, climbing onto the tray, which had some wooden boxes arranged around the edges which functioned as bench seats.

"Posh people ride in the back, don't they, Anna?" said Ida.

"They do. Not on traps, though."

"Alright, ladies, I am your chauffeur," announced Alan, as he picked up the reins and clicked to the horse to move off.

John and Alan fell into conversation again, and Anna looked over the fields. For once, she wasn't sad to be leaving, because she was going home with her husband. Looking up at him, she smiled.

"It's good those two are friends," said Ida. "They've something in common."

"Well, there's plenty that have that in common these days," said Bonnie. "There's a man who comes into the shop and goes on and on to Alan about his supposed gammy leg, when there's nothing wrong with him at all – he got a flesh wound, and a shallow one at that. Alan can't stand him."

"So he doesn't have anything in common with him, then," said Anna.

"No, but he acts like he does. The thing with John is he doesn't act like he does. I don't think either of them have even mentioned the war at all."

"They have the same attitude, I think," said Ida. "Grin and bear it."

"No, it's more than that," said Anna, "It's, 'Put up with it and get on with your life.' If you don't act like it's a problem, then others won't either."

"Well, I try not to," said Bonnie. "It's hard, though."

"I know."

Ida looked between them, wondering how they'd come to live in a society where women were fitter than their husbands. "Is Alan alright, Bon?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bonnie replied, with slightly less confidence that then Anna's previous comment made her feel she should. "Don't let him hear you doubt him!"

"You're saying we should all pretend it's not a problem, Anna?"

"It usually works – not always, but usually. If you act like it's not a problem, then it isn't. If you believe in something, more often than not it'll come true. It's all about your attitude."

"Oh, is that why you're so patient, Anna?" came Alan's voice from the front.

"I suppose so."

Alan chuckled. "What were you talking about?"

"How to overcome problems," said Ida knowingly.

"Anna's very good with that," said John.

"Oh good, better keep her then!" Alan winked at his companion.

John grinned.

There was a tearful goodbye at the station, mainly on Ida's part as she emotionally explained to Anna how very very happy she was for her, and how relieved. One thing lead to another until Anna was blubbing too. John put a firm arm around her shoulders. Alan looked on awkwardly. Bonnie smiled.

The four of them took over a small alcove of the train carriage and chatted happily until Alan and Bonnie's stop, and then it was just Anna and John. She leaned into him and slept for the rest of the journey. He gazed out the window with a peaceful look on his face.

Neither of them spoke on the walk from the station to their cottage, but both enjoyed it more than they had ever thought it possible. When they arrived on the doorstep, Anna gave an involuntary giggle. John looked at her in amusement. "Happy?" he chuckled.

"This is our house, Mr Bates," Anna stated proudly.

"Yes it is," he replied, opening the door. "Do come in, would you like a cup of tea?"

"I would!" Anna chuckled all along the hallway.

When they were sitting contentedly with their cups of tea, their hands grasped together across the table, as they had never been able to do when they drank tea together in the servants' hall, Anna became serious. She looked at him solemnly and asked the question that had been playing on her mind ever since they had left the farm.

"How do you think that went?"

John raised his eyebrows. "Going there, you mean? The time there? I thought it went very well."

"You did? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Very much! It's a beautiful place, and everyone was _so_ nice to me, I couldn't have asked for more!"

"Everyone?"

"Go easy on your dad, Anna. He behaved very reasonably towards me."

"I just wish he'd mind his own business. Everyone else did."

"Everyone else took me as I am, which I was very grateful for. He felt that he needed to do a little more research about me, which is perfectly reasonable, and I intend to help him with it."

"Help him? What do you mean?"

"I mean that I intend to prove myself to him."

Anna gave a half-hearted smile.

"I need to win his trust, that's all. He doesn't give it without good reason. And given what I've put you through in the past, that's fair enough."

Anna rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, why do you ask? Do you think it didn't go well?"

"I think it went _fantastically_."

"You do?"

"I do. I agree with you, I just wanted to ask you how you felt."

"I feel fine!"

"Good."

"And your mother is the second sweetest person in the world."

"Second sweetest?"

"You're the sweetest."

Anna gave him a look. "You charmer."

"I'm not charming you, I'm telling the truth!"

"Hey…" A thought occurring, Anna looked around the room.

"What is it?"

"There's a perfectly good settee over there."

"Well I don't know about 'perfectly good', but there is a settee, yes."

"We don't have to sit on hard wooden chairs when there's a settee."

"Good point."

"Come on, Mr Bates." Anna walked over to the settee and sat down.

He stayed at the table long enough to pour them each another cup of tea, and then brought them both over, sitting very carefully so they didn't spill.

"The things we can do in our own cottage are boundless, aren't they?" Anna grinned

"They are," John replied, leaning forward to give her a soft, sweet kiss.


End file.
